


Gridiron Love

by lucyoppa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Binge Drinking, Blow Jobs, Bullying, First Time, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Marijuana, Pining, Social Anxiety, Stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyoppa/pseuds/lucyoppa
Summary: Rule number one of talking to your hot, football-playing crush is not to pretend to be someone you aren't. Jongin breaks that rule anyway.





	Gridiron Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minty_Pixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minty_Pixie/gifts).



> Jongin may know the rules of football, but I sure don't. Normally I try to do enough research on the thing I'm writing about to have a good understanding of how it works but, wow, American football is the single most complicated sport I've ever come across in my life. And I'm far from athletically inclined. I tried to keep all the football scenes intentionally vague, but do forgive me if I mess up a little.
> 
> To my recipient: I kind of ran away with the prompt. I'm sorry if this isn't even close to what you were imagining when you sent in your prompt list, but I hope you like it anyway? I did have a lot of fun writing this fic though, so thank you for giving me something good to work with. 
> 
> Read on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1296139/gridiron-love-kaisoo)?

 

“You sure you want to do this?” Soojung asks, looking mildly concerned as Jongin psyches himself up on the bleachers. His breath comes short, and one leg won’t stop jiggling up and down with nervous energy.

 

_No,_ he thinks, feeling a little clammy.

 

Today is the day for football try outs, and honestly, what a _nightmare_ . He’d rather be _anywhere_ but here. All of the other boys sitting on the bleachers look bigger and meaner and scarier than him. He tries to picture himself in a helmet and shoulder pads, and fails, whereas the rest of them look like they’d be right at home.

 

He’s disheartened.

 

So, then, why the hell is he here in the first place?

 

Briefly, he glances up, and across the pitch to where the football coach stands – and more importantly, the person he’s talking to. Expressive eyes widen in interest in whatever conversation is taking place, full lips pout around the words they form, and Jongin looks back down into his lap quickly, cheeks smoldering.

 

Oh yes, that’s it. Because he’s the gayest man alive.

 

“Yes,” Jongin nods, finally answering Soojung’s question. She looks somewhat amused but also doubtful, and so Jongin puts on his best determined face even though it’s the last thing he feels.

 

The coach blows his whistle now, and Jongin stands with the other boys. It’s time.

 

“Good luck,” Soojung calls after him, as he makes his way down onto the pitch. “Remember that offer to join the dance team still stands if you don’t make it.”

 

Jongin throws a wry smile back over his shoulder, and waves her off. He knows she’s only half-joking – she’s been trying to get him to join the dance team for _years_ now _,_ and is a tiny bit miffed he’s gone for football instead.

 

The coach orders them to stand in a straight line while he barks a string of words that Jongin can only classify as ‘inspirational drivel’. He seems like the kind of man where everything he says comes out barked – with his hairline receding, and a neck too short for his shoulders.

 

Jongin tunes him out, and tries not to get too distracted by the shorter figure standing next to him. One too many times, however, do his eyes flit to the smooth slopes of that face, because football captain and first-string quarterback Kyungsoo Do’s eyes flicker up to meet with his in curiosity. He blanches, horrified with himself, and bores holes into the floor for the rest of the coach’s speech.

 

When he finally allows himself to look up, it’s resolutely towards the bleachers, and nothing to do with Kyungsoo. If he becomes flustered now, he knows he’ll fuck this up. Soojung waves from the stands. And even though both the boys on either side of him are taller, buffer, and stronger, the fact that _someone’s_ rooting for him in this whole mess cheers him up just a tiny bit.

 

They start with warm-up stretches. Jongin’s still retained a certain suppleness from the years of dance he did in middle school, and so he does fine.  

 

It’s somewhat of a blessing that Kyungsoo doesn’t join in, and instead stands off to the side, observing quietly. Jongin doesn’t need to see the way his body moves and twists any more than he already imagines it to do in his spare time.

 

Besides, he’s preoccupied with noticing some of the stronger-looking boys struggle to get as deep into their lunges as he can. It gives Jongin the tiniest spark of courage. Maybe he could make it. Maybe he won’t fail miserably at this.

 

Feeling slightly _less_ disheartened now by the whole thing, he lines up with the other boys on the running track, upon the coach’s orders, and thinks maybe, just maybe, he can do this.

 

He runs with his dogs around the neighborhood every morning, so it’s not like he’s out of practice. This shouldn’t be so bad, right?

 

Unfortunately for him, however, fate seems to decide he’s getting a tiny bit ahead of himself there.

 

The whistles blows to start the trial, and Jongin takes off running alongside twenty other bigger, stronger, meaner boys.

 

And it only takes ten yards for his foot to catch, his ankle to twist, and for him to come crashing down onto the unforgiving track, face-first.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Later, in the infirmary, Soojung holds an ice-pack to his face, and Jongin feels immensely stupid.

 

“Looks like you just twisted it,” the nurse tells him cheerfully. “Should be better in a couple of days, maximum.”

 

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for his pride.

 

He’s _humiliated_ himself in front of his crush. He might as well get the documents in order to transfer to another school right this minute.

 

Soojung sighs when she sees him pouting.

 

“Oh Nini, you’re so _clumsy_.” It’s indulgent rather than mean, and she kindly brushes some hair out of his face.

 

The pout deepens though.

 

“You can _still_ join the dance team, you know,” she supplies, unhelpfully. But at the very least it gets Jongin to crack a watery smile.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Monday morning sees a bleary and extremely confused Jongin staring up at the football team lists, tacked up to the designated sports noticeboard alongside lopsided team photos, and a picture of a grinning girl holding up her swimming trophy.

 

And, sure enough, there’s his name. Printed in neat black font, five spaces down, and under the heading “Third-string”. Jongin blinks five whole times, and it doesn’t go away. Yup, it’s still there.

 

And so, he theorizes, it can’t just be a Monday-morning insomnia-fueled delusion. He drags his ass off to the coach, grumbling, to clarify what this all means.

 

Surely it’s a mistake.

 

“It’s not a mistake,” says the coach, cheerfully, when Jongin asks. “We didn’t have many boys try out this year, and, well, as sad as it is to say this, you really weren’t the worst.”

 

Jongin blinks.

 

“Forgive me, sir, if I sound rude, or like I’m questioning your ability to judge this kind of thing,” he says, frowning in confusion. “But I left try outs ten minutes in because I fell on my face. Exactly _how_ was I not the worst?”

 

The man shrugs, nonplussed. “Your stretches were great. And I don’t know how much attention you were paying before you fell, but you’re quick. One of the faster ones of that lot.”

 

Jongin takes a short moment to process.

 

“So you’re saying…”

 

“You got in by virtue of numbers, Jongin.” The coach gives him a stern glance. “It sounds harsh, but that’s how it is. That’s why you’re only third-string, but again, not the worst.”

 

Jongin doesn’t have anything to say to that.

 

“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” He receives a vigorous pat on the back, and then the coach is moving on to more pressing matters.

 

Jongin turns to leave, and heads out to the cafeteria to grumble to Soojung about his life.

 

Because even though his plan hadn’t worked out to be the worst disaster in the world, everything still sucks.

 

There’s no way in hell Kyungsoo’s going to notice him all the way down in the third-string.

 

And Jongin Kim, as stupid as it sounds, really has no interest in football.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Jongin! Hey! Wait up!”

 

It’s later that same day when Jongin finds himself being flagged down in the hallway between classes, by the ever-excitable Chanyeol Park. Jongin stops, turns, waits, and then suddenly there’s a very tall, grinning boy in his personal space, clapping him on the shoulder a bit harder than he probably should.

 

Jongin coughs to hide his grimace, and tries to look happy to see him.

 

“Hey man,” Chanyeol smiles _really_ wide. He’s the type of person who never fails to make one feel welcome and wanted, and for that, Jongin has always appreciated him. “Heard you tried out for the football team.”

 

They’ve been family friends since forever. He and Chanyeol went to the same middle school as well, and Jongin’s grateful for a lot of things he’s done over the course of their relationship.

 

“Yeah, I did.” Jongin scratches an ear absently, trying not to notice how many looks the two of them are getting. But Jongin’s shy. It’s hard.

 

Because Chanyeol’s also immensely popular. _Way_ more popular than Jongin will ever be, since he seems to be in every school club simultaneously, and knows everyone in the entire student body.

 

“How’d that go?” he asks, looking like there’s nothing more in the world he wants to know than the results of Jongin’s football try outs. He appreciates the effort, really, but Jongin wishes he didn’t have to pick a topic that brings up such freshly painful memories.

 

But it’s to be expected. Chanyeol is a first-string player, after all.

 

“Not so good,” Jongin smiles wryly, casually deciding to leave out the part where he fell on his face and humiliated himself for the rest of… forever. The tiny scratches on his face have healed now, and the bruise on his lip gone down too. There’s no evidence left, other than his scarred pride. “I only made it into the third-string.”

 

And then, because he can’t help feeling sorry for himself, and because he doesn’t know better for some reason, he adds: “I’m thinking of quitting actually.”

 

At that, of course, Chanyeol looks positively horrified.

 

“You gotta give it a chance, man!” Chanyeol looks so earnest that Jongin almost has to look away. “Look, don’t feel bad, everyone has to start somewhere. The third-string’s _fine_!”

 

From down the corridor, Jongin notices a quiet presence approaching. Because even though the presence, itself, is quiet, it seems to turn heads in its wake, and create quite a stir.

 

So it’s noticeable.

 

Jongin’s stomach churns.

 

“Just promise you’ll give it a chance, yeah?” Chanyeol pleads.

 

“I will,” he mutters, distracted, and already turning to go. “Look I have to go, I’m going to be late for class.”

 

“Jongin?” Chanyeol grabs his shoulder to turn him back around, look him in the eye, and make him stay for a moment more. “Promise?”

 

Jongin squirms, uncomfortable. “I promise,” he says, right as the presence appears around Chanyeol’s shoulder, and he tries his best to make a break for it.

 

Because… yeah. Kyungsoo Do’s best friend. Chanyeol also happens to be _that_.

 

Jongin slips away with cheeks flaming, half cursing himself for running into the one person he was meant to be avoiding, and half admonishing himself for thinking that Kyungsoo fucking Do would even remember the pathetic third-string team member who fell on his face during try outs.

 

But mostly, he just laughs at himself for daring to imagine that soft _“hello Jongin,”_ in the moments before he had turned and fled.

 

He’s an idiot, really.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Here are the facts: Jongin Kim has a crush on Kyungsoo Do. That much is obvious so far.

 

Kyungsoo Do is also very popular due to the fact that he is the captain and quarterback of their school’s beloved football team.

 

Jongin Kim… is not. Either of those things.

 

The reasons for this, however, are slightly more varied and nuanced than those of Kyungsoo’s popularity. There is, of course, Jongin’s natural shyness. His tendency to become one with the wall at any party he is dragged to. The fact that he speaks too softly and shrinks into himself in social situations.

 

And of course, there was the whole middle school debacle. The one where Jongin chose ballet over any other extra-curricular activity. Apparently, he didn’t get the memo that boys aren’t supposed to _do_ that, because for the rest of his life at that particular school, he was branded an outcast, despite it not really being anyone else’s business anyway.

 

Then there was the bullying. Apparently Jongin _also_ missed the memo where it stipulated that ballet dancing makes you gay. Of course, he _is_ actually gay, but he doesn’t really think the two are in any way connected.

 

Besides. He’s resolutely closeted to everyone except Soojung. And it had taken a _long_ while for him to come out to her too.

 

Chanyeol himself had helped stave off the worst of it, back then. Jongin doesn’t think the older’s thrown a single punch in his life, but he plays the big, intimidating senior part well, when he needs to.

 

Chanyeol’s always been a tad protective of him since then.

 

But Chanyeol had graduated before him, and moved on to high school, leaving Jongin to fend for himself. In that year, everything had been harder than ever, and Jongin doesn’t really like to think about it more than he has to.

 

He quit ballet in the end. It was easier, he realised, to conform, to fade into the background, and not make a fuss.

 

There are some residual effects of the whole thing that have lasted into high school. But it’s quietened down enough for Jongin not to care _too_ much anymore.

 

It’s easier too, to reject Soojung’s constant dance team invitations, and act like he doesn’t have the time. She doesn’t really know any better, and Jongin’s not mad, but he doesn’t think he can go back to what it was like before.

 

But then there was the extra complication. One that came in the form of a well-built, but surprisingly petite figure, thick-rimmed glasses, and stubby fingers that Jongin had knocked the books right out of during his first week of freshman year.

 

Kyungsoo Do.

 

And if high school is a series of clichés, Kyungsoo should have punched him squarely in the face for not watching where he was going, and bumping into one of _the most_ popular kids in the entire building.

 

But he didn’t. Kyungsoo had merely retrieved his books in front of a shocked-still Jongin, and then blinked up at him curiously. Upon spotting the bright yellow name-tag pinned to his shirt, Kyungsoo’s lips had twisted up into the shape of a heart, he had welcomed Jongin to the school, and asked if he needed any help finding his next class.

 

The entire encounter probably lasted less than a minute. But Jongin’s come to realise that that’s more than enough time to become absolutely smitten with someone.

 

Because, of course, in the entire two plus years he’s been at this godforsaken school, that’s the longest time he’s spent with Kyungsoo’s undiluted attention on him _ever_.

 

Pathetic really.

 

But flash forward to the present, and Jongin is a junior. A junior who’s been staring longingly at the back of Kyungsoo’s head in the only class they share – Jongin’s a year ahead of himself in English – and not doing anything about it.

 

It had come as a painful realisation that come the end of the year, Kyungsoo will graduate. And if Jongin continues on as he always has, he won’t have spoken one word to the boy more than hellos and goodbyes since that first time of stammered out apologies.

 

Jongin doesn’t want that. He wants to know he’s at least capable of holding a somewhat civil conversation with an attractive boy. Of being _friends._ Or at least… slightly more than acquaintances.

 

So that’s what he told himself as he came up with his long-shot of a plan to make Kyungsoo notice him by trying out for the team. That his intentions are one hundred percent innocent, that he just wants to know the guy better.

 

Deep down, he knows it’s more.

 

But he isn’t stupid enough to entertain those fantasies.

 

And besides, he couldn’t even manage all of that without humiliating himself in the first place. No point in trying to run before he can even… crawl.

 

So, in summary, Jongin is a lovesick nobody. And Kyungsoo is this perfect angel, the absolute star of the school. Jongin is a fool for even _daring_ to want.

 

And those, Jongin realises with a sigh, as he changes into his gym clothes for his first football practice of the season, are the facts.

 

The coach blows the whistle, and Jongin hurries out of the locker room to join the other boys for warm ups.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jongin’s not naive enough to believe he left the bullying entirely behind in middle school, really. He’s too self-conscious not to notice the occasional whisper, or badly hidden pointed-finger.

 

But never has it been worse, in these past few years, than after that first football practice, alone with the other boys in the locker room.

 

Maybe he brings it on himself. Maybe he should learn to mind his own business. But while he changes back into his normal clothes, and fiddles around in his locker, the others are huddled around a cell phone on the other side of the room, watching a video.

 

He doesn’t think much of it, even when the inappropriate comments start. “God look at her _legs_ ,” one of them says. Another groans. Another snickers.

 

“What I’d do to be in between them,” another boy agrees. Jongin’s face twists into a grimace as he slams his locker shut, and the others laugh.

 

Adolescent straight boys are just so… gross.

 

Then he recognizes the song playing in the background of the video, and whips around to see if he can get a good look over their shoulders.

 

Sure enough, it’s the school dance team’s latest YouTube upload. A video of Soojung dancing to her own choreography. Jongin’s stomach twists in disgust.

 

“Um,” he says, struggling to be heard even as another boy voices his (disgusting) opinion. “Could you maybe not talk about her like that?”

 

Immediately all eyes are on him.

 

Jongin starts to sweat.

 

“Why?” the one holding the phone asks, putting it down on the bench where he sits, and standing up. It’s menacing how they all seem to turn at once, simultaneously keeping their distance for the time being, while circling around him to block all exits and means of escape.

 

“She’s my friend,” he says, trying not to sound terrified. He backs up a little, putting more space between himself and the rest of them.

 

This might have been a mistake. He’s probably about to get beat up.

 

But… it’s true. Soojung is his friend. His _best_ friend. What kind of man would he be if he just let stuff like this slide?

 

“Are you fucking her?” another of them asks, and Jongin’s eyes slide painfully up to meet with his. All he sees is malice there.

 

From the side of the group, another boy laughs.

 

Jongin looks over to see who it is, and immediately, his stomach drops.

 

He recognises this one. Someone he thought he’d left behind in middle school, but evidently just lost in the sheer size of the student body here.

 

One of his personal bullies from back in the day.

 

“Fucking her?” he laughs even harder, like that’s the funniest joke he’s heard all week. But there’s a cruelty to it. An edge that makes Jongin want to wince. “This guy doesn’t do girls. Don’t you know he’s a faggot, dude?”

 

At that, Jongin does wince.

 

The crowd around him seems to take a synchronized step closer, and Jongin is afraid. Another step back has the cold metal of the locker brushing up his spine, and now he’s well and truly cornered.

 

“So? Which one is it?” the first boy demands, nothing kind in his tone. “Are you fucking her? Or are you gay?”

 

Like there’s no other option. Jongin’s hands grip into useless fists at his sides.

 

Another step forward. They’re closing in now.

 

“Dude, he’s a total cock-sucker. No way in hell is he scoring chicks like Soojung.”

 

They advance another step. The ring leader is right in front of him now, almost nose-to-nose. Jongin gulps and screws his eyes shut.

 

Whatever they’re about to do, he hopes they make it quick.

 

He hears a shuffle of movement, feels the air stir right in front of his body, braces himself for impact, and then –

 

Nothing happens.

 

Someone, somewhere in the room, clears their throat. Jongin opens his eyes.

 

All of the boys around him have turned to look at the newcomers. Chanyeol Park and Kyungsoo Do.

 

Chanyeol looks absolutely livid. Kyungsoo’s face is trained into a blank, flat stare.

 

He meets eyes with his crush, just briefly. Something flickers across the other’s face then, but Jongin’s too preoccupied with dropping his gaze down to the floor and keeping it there than deciphering what it means.

 

He’s _ashamed._

 

“Get the _fuck_ out of here,” Chanyeol bites, and the effect is immediate. The boys scatter, scrambling to leave as fast as possible. Some of them aren’t even completely dressed yet, but no one wants to mess with Chanyeol Park, the biggest member of the first-string football team.

 

After they are gone, there is a brief silence.

 

“Jongin –” Chanyeol starts, but Jongin can’t bear this anymore.

 

Frantically, he snatches his backpack up from the floor, and hurries past them towards the door. One of them calls his name as he passes – his ears are ringing so much he can’t even tell which – but he can’t do this.

 

He can’t stay here and watch whatever expression that was bloom over Kyungsoo’s face.

 

Disgust? Pity? Jongin isn’t even sure which one would be worse.

 

The hallway is empty when he bursts out of the locker room, and necks it towards the first bathroom he can find. He locks himself in one of the stalls, and shakily sits down.

 

No one seems to have followed him in here, and for that he is glad.

 

Alone, finally, he takes a big breath.

 

And promptly bursts into tears.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jongin’s flopped face-down into his pillow later that night, feeling sorry for himself and trying to ignore the world, when his mom pops her head concernedly round his doorframe.

 

“Everything alright dear?” she asks, and Jongin turns his head sideways to lay on his cheek and look up at her instead.

 

“Fine mom,” he says. He doesn’t know how convincing that is with how gloomy he sounds, and how he can’t even really stop himself from pouting. But hey, it’s the best he’s got.

 

She chews on her lip for a moment. If she notices how swollen his eyes and nose still are, she doesn’t comment.

 

“You seem a little down.”

 

He sighs.

 

“Just stressed. I have a lot of work to do.” _And I was humiliated in front of the only person who really matters today, but whatever._

 

She pauses again.

 

“You can always talk to me if something’s up, you know.” When Jongin doesn’t reply, she just sighs, resignedly. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

 

“Thanks mom.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Nini,” Soojung coos across the cafeteria table when he finishes recapping the events of yesterday. The tips of his ears are burning, and he’s been avoiding looking at the football team’s table for the whole lunch period. “I can’t believe you defended me like that. You didn’t have to.”

 

He blushes and looks down at his fries. “Well I couldn’t just… let them, you know…”

 

Soojung laughs and leans over to ruffle his hair. At least _she’s_ happy. At least there’s a silver lining to all this.

 

What _isn’t_ so great is that he’s been feeling twin stares on the back of his neck coming from the very table he’s been avoiding throughout this entire conversation.

 

Jongin squirms.

 

“Yes, they’re still staring at you,” Soojung sighs, when she notices his discomfort. “They looked like they were talking about you just now too.”

 

Jongin groans, and drops his forehead down onto his lunch tray. Soojung does her best to supportively ruffle his hair again.

 

He’s on his third year in this dumb school, and finally gets noticed by his crush for being called a _cock-sucker._

 

Is there _anything_ worse, really?

 

Yes, there is, apparently. And it’s the mortification he feels when Chanyeol manages to snag him by the back of his collar when he tries to leave early for class. From across the room,

Kyungsoo’s _still_ watching him, and Jongin’s starting to feel slightly nauseous.

 

Will today give him a _break?_

 

“What is it Chanyeol?” Jongin asks, turning back to him with a polite smile, and trying not to look like a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m gonna be late for class.”

 

“The bell hasn’t rung yet.”

 

“My history classroom’s far away.”

 

“I’ll be quick, I just wanna discuss something with you.”

 

Chanyeol smiles then, as kindly as ever, and Jongin concedes to the conversation with a nod of his head. With everything Chanyeol’s ever done for him, the least he owes him is a little bit of his time.

 

Even if he really wants to throw up right now. Kyungsoo looks so interested in whatever Chanyeol’s about to say that he might just come right over.

 

Thankfully he doesn’t though.

 

“Our team water boy can’t make it for Thursday practices anymore,” Chanyeol tells him.

 

Jongin blinks in confusion. “He has extra maths classes or something – whatever. Not important. I discussed it with Kyungsoo, and he said it’s okay if I ask you to fill his position for that day.”

 

“Why –”

 

“Look, I know it isn’t much, but I don’t want you staying on the third-string.” Chanyeol’s eyes flash, and Jongin’s cheeks prick with memories of yesterday. “Maybe with a little extra one-on-one training we could make you a reserve, or you could join the team next year.”

 

So Chanyeol’s saving his ass yet again.

 

Jongin chews the inside of his cheek.

 

“On the _first-_ string?”

 

He nods.

 

“And look, I’m too busy to help out at the moment,” Chanyeol chuckles, and Jongin’s lips quirk up into a half-smile. Everyone knows that between the football team, the school band, student council, and a very active social life, Chanyeol hardly has time to _breathe._ “But Kyungsoo’s agreed to coach you after practice, if you want.”

 

The smile on Jongin’s face drops immediately, and his eyes widen in disbelief.

 

“ _Kyungsoo_ did?” He can’t help but glance over Chanyeol’s shoulder briefly at the very object of his affections. Kyungsoo smiles hopefully at him, and lifts his hand in a little wave.

 

Jongin’s heartbeat stutters in his chest as he timidly waves back, and then rips his eyes back to Chanyeol’s face.

 

He can’t believe this.

 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol grins. “Not everyone gets to be so lucky, right? So? What do you say?”

 

Jongin hums in thought for a moment.

 

There’s still yesterday’s humiliation, and the residual effects left over from the try outs too. But as Chanyeol says, not everyone is lucky enough to be offered one-on-one training sessions with Kyungsoo Do himself.

 

Jongin would be an idiot to decline.

 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling slightly faint. “I’ll do it. I’ll join.”

 

“Great!” Chanyeol gives him another of those hard claps on the shoulder, and Jongin stumbles a step forward. “See you at practice tomorrow!”

 

It’s when Chanyeol shoots a thumbs-up back at Kyungsoo, and the latter breaks out into that signature heart-shaped grin, that Jongin wonders how the hell he’s going to make it through all this without seriously embarrassing himself.

 

But if being noticed by his crush was the plan then… maybe this won’t be the worst thing after all.

 

His cheeks are still red by the time he reaches his history classroom, and he has to muffle a smile into the pages of his text book.

 

Nothing compares to the cool wash of relief that comes with the realisation that Kyungsoo doesn’t want nothing to do with him, like he originally thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you really ended up picking football over dance,” Soojung whispers accusingly at him over her copy of _Wuthering Heights._ “Traitor.”

 

Jongin flicks her in the side, and she jolts in her seat.

 

Kyungsoo had pulled him aside just before English, and asked whether they could start their training sessions tomorrow after practice. Jongin had managed to say one word (“yes”) without stuttering, so that’s progress.

 

The soft, answering smile, and brief pat on the shoulder he’d received had taken Jongin’s breath away. It doesn’t help that Kyungsoo’s vaguely fuzzy, unstyled hair and oversized hoodie make him look extra adorable today, and he’d had to fight the urge to tackle-hug him and snuggle.

 

As if he’d ever actually do that though. Jongin is a much braver human being in his imagination, and in reality, Kyungsoo’s likely capable of snapping him in half.

 

“But anything for alone time with _Kyungsoo_ , right?” Soojung’s whisper pulls him back to reality, and he frowns at the sight of a teasing smirk plastered across her face.

 

He pokes her in the ribs, but she’s quick to step on his foot in retaliation. Hard. Jongin nearly falls out of his chair.

 

“Jongin Kim!” The teacher’s voice snaps both of them upright, and to attention. “This is the last straw! If you don’t stop being so disruptive, I’m going to move you up here next to Kyungsoo.”

 

Cue Jongin turning beet red.

 

Kyungsoo has turned around in his seat like all the other students, to look back at the commotion. He always sits near the front because his astigmatism makes it hard to read off the board from the back, and Jongin should be embarrassed that he knows so many little details about the guy when they haven’t had a proper conversation.

 

The teacher shoots him one more stern look, and then continues on reading where she left off.

 

And Jongin probably only imagines the way Kyungsoo’s cheek seems slightly lifted when he turns back around to focus on his book once more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Walking into the locker room before practice the next day is, to put it lightly, intimidating.

 

There are _so many_ boys. And so much noise. And everyone’s only half-dressed. And Jongin feels terribly like he’s intruding.

 

Trust Chanyeol to be both a blessing and a curse in a situation like this. A blessing because he notices him standing awkwardly in the doorway almost immediately, and comes over to sling an arm across his shoulders, leading him further into the room.

 

And a curse because he feels the need to loudly announce Jongin’s arrival to everyone within a ten kilometre radius.

 

“He’s here!” Chanyeol yells, loud enough for Jongin to want to flinch away. He doesn’t though, because that would be rude, and Jongin is not rude. “Everyone, this is Jongin, our new water boy.”

 

Jongin wills away the redness creeping up his neck.

 

There are some curious glances thrown in his direction, and a smattering of hellos, but for the most part, the team gets on with what they’re doing undisturbed. Jongin recognises a couple of them – namely Sehun Oh, since he’s on the dance team as well, and hangs out with Soojung sometimes; and Minseok Kim, because as the vice-captain of the team, Jongin would have to be living under a rock not to know who he is.

 

And, of course, Kyungsoo. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to seek out the other, bent over with his foot up on a bench as he laces up his football cleats.

 

God, he looks _gorgeous._

 

Jongin kinda maybe definitely has a thing for him in his football uniform. Those pants are just… so tight.

 

And then his heart tries to beat itself right up his throat when Kyungsoo looks up and right into his eyes. Immediately, Jongin’s looking everywhere else around the room – he doesn’t want Kyungsoo to think he was staring. Even if he really was.

 

“Hey Jongin,” he says, getting up and coming over. Chanyeol seems to get sucked up into another conversation, and now it’s just the two of them. So unfortunately, Jongin has to look him in the eye now. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Uhh.” _Don’t blush, this is a normal conversation you idiot._ “Thanks.”

 

“Why don’t you get dressed for our training session so long, while the rest of us start warm-ups?” His hair’s all tousled now from changing, and even though Jongin really likes his glasses, he has to admit Kyungsoo looks hotter now, like this, without them. “Your water cooler’s over there,” – he pauses and points – “And you can come out and join us when you’re ready.”

 

Jongin nods to show that he understands. And Kyungsoo should really stop shooting him encouraging smiles like that before it becomes a habit – it’s so at odds with his natural resting face that it’s starting to give Jongin _feelings._

 

“Team!” Kyungsoo raises his voice and turns from him. It’s not really a shout – Kyungsoo’s not that loud of a person – but everyone in the room seems to hear him anyway, and the noise dies down. “Let’s start.”

 

Once the football team has filed out of the locker room and onto the court, Jongin finally has a moment to breathe, to collect himself, and to calm his nerves.

 

It never really struck him, until now, how _intense_ of a person Kyungsoo can be. When he makes eye contact, it’s unwavering. When he speaks to him, it’s calm and quiet, but clear and firm. Jongin feels a little frayed.

 

And this is only the beginning of it.

 

He changes quickly, and scoops up the water cooler before heading out to the pitch. The team are in the middle of doing their warm-up stretches, and Jongin takes a seat on the bench to watch the practice.

 

He resolutely looks away from Kyungsoo’s side of the pitch when they all sink down into squats.

 

There’s only so much he can handle in one day.

 

After warm-ups, the coach divides the team into two halves to play a mini practice-game against each other, to see how much damage the holidays have done to their skills. Fifteen minutes more of that, and a couple of players break away from the rest, heading his way.

 

One of them is Sehun.

 

“Hey Jongin,” he says on approach. The boy next to him is shorter, and his eyes flicker between the two of them curiously.

 

“Hi Sehun,” he says, fumbling with the lid of the cooler to hand them both water bottles. They both thank him, and then any conversation is put on pause for a moment while they tip their heads back to drink.

 

“So,” the shorter of the two plops down on the bench beside him, and shakes sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “Jongin, right?”

 

“That’s me.”

 

Up close he has puppyish, downturned eyes, and a perpetually mischievous smile. It seems he’s extra touchy-feely too, because in the next moment he slides an arm over Jongin’s shoulders, and leans in close.

 

“I’m Baekhyun,” he says, as Sehun takes a seat on Jongin’s other side. “And I like you already.”

 

They’ve known each other for approximately thirty seconds at this point.

 

“Uhh,” Jongin fumbles with his ear. “I’ve said, like, two words to you.”

 

Baekhyun laughs light-heartedly. Any worries Jongin had about the first-string team being scary and unapproachable are dissipating by the second, because Baekhyun seems genuinely friendly and sweet.

 

He was worried they’d be elitist, first-string assholes. And he’s just their water boy, so…

 

But Baekhyun proves him wrong when he grins wide, and says: “Doesn’t matter, you’re Chanyeol’s friend. And Soo seems to like you already, so that’s good enough for me.”

 

_Soo._ That’s cute. But –

 

“I don’t really know Kyungsoo though,” he mumbles, wishing Baekhyun’s words were true. “So I don’t know if I’d say he _likes_ me really…”

 

Baekhyun just raises an eyebrow and looks at him for a moment, assessing. “You’re the one he’s giving one-on-one sessions, right?”

 

Jongin blinks.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “We start today.”

 

“Well,” Baekhyun stands now, screwing the cap back onto his bottle and setting it down on the bench. “He’s never done that for _anyone_ before. That’s all I’ll say.”

 

Baekhyun throws him a playful wink before turning to head back to the other players on the pitch. Sehun nudges him softly with a shoulder once, and then gets up to do the same.

 

And Jongin’s cheeks warm a little with the implications.

 

He and Kyungsoo don’t… they don’t _know_ each other. Despite the fact that Jongin might know too much about the guy, they haven’t interacted face-to-face. Today is the first day since they met that they’ve actually really spoken to each other _at all._

 

There’s no way this is some kind of special treatment. Jongin’s been thinking, and the only reason Kyungsoo would offer the help is as some special favour to Chanyeol – someone he _does_ know well, and who _would_ look out for him more than anyone else.

 

So no, it’s not like Kyungsoo likes him, or anything.

 

Baekhyun just has the wrong end of the stick, is all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ready to start?”

 

Jongin looks up from the bench. The last of the players are disappearing into the locker room, and it’s just him and Kyungsoo on the pitch now.

 

Kyungsoo has his eyebrows raised in expectation, his face open and friendly. Sweat makes his shirt cling to him, and he reaches up to push damp hair out of his eyes.

 

Jongin scrambles up from the bench, and wishes he didn’t _always_ notice the little details.

 

“Y-yeah,” he says. Stops. Swallows. He doesn’t want to be dead quiet for the entire session just because of nerves, and make it awkward. “Where do we start?”

 

“We’ll do some warm-ups,” Kyungsoo says, motioning towards the pitch. “Starting with a jog. Come on, I’ll run with you.”

 

They set off on a circuit around the pitch together, and even though Jongin’s legs are about half a foot longer, Kyungsoo easily keeps pace with him. It’s not the fitness level he’s surprised by – but the fact that Kyungsoo’s just gone through an entire practice session, and then some, and still isn’t flagging in the slightest.

 

Jongin glances across at his running partner just briefly. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration.

 

It’s hot. Jongin decides to focus on pacing his breathing instead.

 

When they make it back to their start point, Jongin’s already panting heavily, and so Kyungsoo gives him a moment to recover before they move on to lunges and high kicks.

 

“So how much experience do you have with football?” he wants to know now, casting a critical eye over Jongin’s body as he holds the lunge position. “Don’t turn your knee out – that’s better.”

 

“Um,” and Jongin flushes, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “I know the rules?”

 

And really… that’s only from how often he drags Soojung to inter-school games, forcing her to come with him so he has an excuse to ogle at Kyungsoo for three hours straight at a time.

 

Suddenly, he feels an awful lot like he’s wasting Kyungsoo’s time. His stomach drops. What if that makes him angry?

 

“I see,” Kyungsoo presses his lips together. Jongin can never tell what he’s thinking. “That just means we have more to work on, I guess. Change legs now.”

 

Jongin lets the tension in his shoulders fade with the breath he lets out as he switches over.

 

“You’re good friends with Chanyeol, right?” Kyungsoo asks when Jongin moves on to a series of high kicks. In between short puffs of breath, Jongin looks at his face to gauge his expression.

 

Kyungsoo just looks curious, and Jongin is a little bit surprised. It never crossed his mind that Kyungsoo would want to make small talk with someone like _him._

 

“Yeah,” he says, pausing to catch his breath. “We’ve known each other since we were little.”

 

Kyungsoo tilts his head to the side. “So why don’t I ever see you around, Jongin?”

 

Jongin nearly forgets to breathe at the question.

 

_Because I avoid you on purpose so I don’t end up embarrassing myself._ “Maybe our schedules don’t overlap much?”

 

The small smile that graces Kyungsoo’s face in response might be a sign he knows that’s bullshit.

 

“We’re in the same English class.”

 

Well shit. Jongin doesn’t have anything to say to that. “That’s true…”

 

He’s saved from answering properly, however, by the end of his last set of high kicks.

 

Heaving a big breath in, he changes the subject: “So what are we doing now?”

 

“I want to see your three-point stance first,” Kyungsoo’s back in business-mode. “Come stand on the line.”

 

Jongin does as he’s told.

 

Kyungsoo comes up to stand right in front of him. Alarmingly close, by Jongin’s standards.

 

“Feet apart,” Kyungsoo orders, and when he isn’t happy with the spacing, he nudges the inside of Jongin’s ankle with the tip of his shoe to move it outwards. “Shoulder-width, shoulder-width.”

 

Jongin tries his best to look down, and do as he’s told, and pretend his cheeks haven’t burst into flames all over again.

 

But Kyungsoo’s so close he can _smell_ him.

 

“Okay, squat down for me.” Kyungsoo takes a merciful step back. “That’s it.”

 

And Jongin knows more or less what to do – they’d started with the basics in the one football practice he _did_ attend before being unexpectedly promoted. But… the way Kyungsoo says it…

 

Squat down _for me._

 

“Head up, Jongin.”

 

And there go his plans of hiding his burning cheeks.

 

Kyungsoo circles around to his side now. “Back flat.” He lays a warm hand against the middle of Jongin’s spine, and presses down until he complies. Hopefully he doesn’t hear the short, rapid little exhale from his student, because Jongin is starting to want to die.

 

He didn’t foresee that football training would have this much… _contact._

 

“Hands up.” Kyungsoo’s back in front of him. “Tuck in your elbows – alright. Now, go down into the stance.”

 

Jongin tries to concentrate on keeping his back straight as he sinks down into position, and not the shapely calves that have now entered his line of vision.

 

“A little more weight in your arm, Jongin.” Kyungsoo pauses while he shifts, and then stops to simply observe him for a moment.

 

Jongin’s thighs ache from the waiting.

 

“Good,” Kyungsoo praises. “That’s good. You can come up now, we’ll work on your passes.”

 

Jongin lets out the breath he was holding as he stands up straight, and for a moment feels wobbly on his feet. Kyungsoo is watching him with full eyes, and it doesn’t help.

 

When he turns away to fetch a football from the bench, Jongin feels a tension that he probably made up lift from the air around them.

 

And they’ve only been doing this for twenty minutes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After being taught how to pass the ball properly, Kyungsoo drills him on his dodging and agility, and by the time he checks his phone and deems their training session over, Jongin is pretty sure he might pass out.

 

It’s on legs that feel like jelly that he manages to drag himself into one of the locker room showers. The warm water sluicing down his face and back is wholly welcome – he’s worked up quite the sweat by now, thanks to his new coach.

 

A moment later he hears another shower curtain pull along its rails, and it’s with horror he remembers that _of course_ he and Kyungsoo are the last two, alone together in the locker room, and _of course_ he and Kyungsoo will be the last two to use the showers together.

 

He swallows heavily, and lathers up his body a little more quickly. He’s made it this far, and it might be the dumbest cliché ever, but the last thing he needs to ruin it now is the sight of Kyungsoo wrapped in nothing but a towel and covered in glimmering water droplets.

 

Even the mental image proves a little too much.

 

Hey. He’s an adolescent boy. With _hormones._

 

While rushing through his shower and hurrying to get dressed, he gives himself a mental pep-talk to get it together. They’re going to do this twice a week from now on. He can’t keep being this awkward around Kyungsoo.

 

But _just this once,_ he tells himself, as he shoulders his backpack and takes his first step towards the door, he’ll allow himself to run away early.

 

“Jongin?” a voice calls from the showers. “Leaving already?”

 

It’s Kyungsoo, of course. Who else _could_ it be?

 

There goes _that_ plan.

 

He steels himself before he turns, and plasters a polite smile onto his face. “Yeah, my mom’s nagging me to hurry up. So I better go.”

 

Kyungsoo’s head materialises from around the curtain now.

 

And Jongin really doesn’t need this _– this_ being the sight of Kyungsoo pushing dripping bangs back and blinking the water out of his eyes. He’s _soaked,_ and Jongin can see one defined shoulder, the sliver of a collarbone –

 

“Well I guess we’ll do this again next Thursday then,” he says. Then he pauses to smile a tiny smile that Jongin really can’t decipher. “And Jongin?”

 

“Yes?”

 

He waits for Kyungsoo to speak with baited breath.

 

“I’ll see you round, okay?”

 

Jongin can only manage a quick nod, before he speed-walks out of the locker room, down the hallway, and out of the school building, ignoring the way his calf muscles scream in protest the whole time.

 

Only here, on the deserted front school steps, where Kyungsoo can no longer see or hear him, does he allow himself to stop.

 

And then smothers a scream into his hands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You’re drooling on your pillow,” a soft voice coos, just centimetres from Jongin’s ear.

 

He snaps awake with an unattractive snort, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Hi mom.”

 

“I’ve been calling you for dinner for the past five minutes, dear. What’s got you so tired today?” Jongin’s mother pauses to watch as he manoeuvres his legs off the side of the bed with a groan. “And _stiff_?”

 

“I joined the football team,” he says, still bleary. “Well… kinda.”

 

“What does ‘well kinda’ entail?”

 

“I’m their water boy.” Here he yawns. “But the captain is giving me special training sessions so maybe I can join the team one day.”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “Who is this ‘captain’? Do I know him?”

 

Jongin rolls his eyes as he gets up to follow her gingerly down the stairs. But only because he knows she won’t see him do it. “No, but he’s a friend of Chanyeol’s.”

 

That seems to appease her, as she gives a satisfied hum. “Tell Yeollie I said hi when you see him tomorrow, alright?”

 

Jongin sighs. “Yes mom.”

 

In her eyes, Chanyeol has always been the perfect son she never had, and can do absolutely nothing wrong. Even though, _technically_ speaking, Jongin’s probably the better behaved out of the two of them.

 

But she wouldn’t believe him if he told her anyway.

 

“So…” she begins, as they sit down at the dinner table. “Football, huh?”

 

Jongin blanches. “I’ve been interested in it for a while,” he lies.

 

“Uh huh?” she looks sceptical.

 

“Mom,” he pouts in protest. She can never take anything at face value.

 

“Alright, alright,” she raises both hands in surrender. “I’ll stop playing helicopter mom. I can never keep up with your interests anyway. But you can’t blame me for being a little bit shocked this time, can you?”

 

Jongin hides a smile in his rice. Badly.

 

Thankfully she lets it go anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next day during lunch, Jongin thanks the cafeteria lady as per usual, picks up his tray, and suddenly finds himself being flanked by two other people who steer him in the complete opposite direction of his regular table with Soojung.

 

“Hey Jongin,” Chanyeol greets from his right.

 

“You’re sitting with us today,” says Baekhyun, from his left.

 

Jongin can only be swept along by the tide towards the football team’s table, and jostled into one of the seats in absolute bewilderment.  

 

Is he… is he even _allowed_ to sit here?

 

Sehun tries to greet him through a mouthful of food from across the table. There are two other team members on either side of him that Jongin recognises from practice, but doesn’t yet know by name.

 

“Oh hey, sorry,” Sehun says, once he’s swallowed. “This is Junmyeon, and that’s Yixing. I don’t know if you were introduced yet.”

 

Jongin shakes his head. “I’m Jongin,” he greets, shyly. He’s a little overwhelmed, to be honest, by so many new faces up so close and all at once, but at least Junmyeon has a kind smile, and Yixing looks happy to see him.

 

“Our new water boy, right?” Yixing asks. Jongin nods. “Welcome to the team!”

 

Jongin doesn’t have time to stutter out a reply before three more players arrive at their table, and pull up extra chairs. He turns to his left to see who’s trying to squeeze in right next to him, and – oh.

 

It’s Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin shifts his chair to the side to give him a bit more room, but they still end up with the sides of their thighs mushed together, and nowhere else to go. It can’t be helped, really, with the way Baekhyun, on his other side, can’t seem to keep still and doesn’t know what personal space is.

 

“Hey Jongin,” Kyungsoo says now, taking his glasses off to clean the lenses with a small cloth from his pocket. “Sitting with us today?”

 

“I, um, well. Chanyeol and Baekhyun brought me here –”

 

Whatever he was _trying_ to say – and to be quite honest, he isn’t sure – it gets lost when Minseok and another nameless, familiar face, settle in at the table, and his attention is suddenly consumed by one of the loudest voices he’s encountered in his entire life.

 

“New water boy!” The corners of the unknown guy’s mouth curl up into the most eccentric of smiles, and his eyes all but disappear. “I didn’t really meet you yesterday, I’m Jongdae!”

 

“Jongin,” he greets back, timidly, and at about a quarter of the volume.

 

After that, it only takes about ten seconds for Jongin to realise that the footballers’ lunch table is absolute _chaos._

 

Between Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Jongdae, there is enough noise to _deafen_ him. And on top of that, there are about five different conversations zigzagging back and forth across the table, each with added chatter from the others. Jongin can keep up with approximately none of them.

 

Amidst it all, he looks across the cafeteria, and manages to lock eyes with Soojung, back at their usual spot, and sitting next to Taemin and Seulgi from the dance team. If she sees the plea for help in his eyes, she doesn’t take it seriously, because all she does is look vaguely amused by the whole situation, and throw him a wink.

 

From his left hand-side, Kyungsoo, the only quiet one at the entire table, catches the interaction, and chuckles.

 

“A little wilder than your usual spot, right?” Kyungsoo leans in close so he can speak at a comfortable volume, and Jongin feels warm breath on the shell of his ear. “Sorry if this is… a lot.”

 

Jongin wonders if Kyungsoo notices him shudder.

 

“No, that’s – that’s okay.” He angles his head awkwardly to the side, trying to find a way to look at Kyungsoo while he speaks so as not to be rude, but not be _all up_ in his space at the same time. “I’m sorry too – I was dragged here, I don’t know if –”

 

Again, he’s prevented from finishing his sentence. This time it’s because someone shoves Baekhyun, which sparks a domino effect ending with Jongin being pushed into Kyungsoo’s personal space, and shooting out a hand to catch himself. Fortunately, he manages to stop from careening face-first into his crush’s lap, which is an embarrassment he doesn’t know if he’d ever be able to live down for his entire life.

 

But _un_ fortunately, it does mean Jongin’s hand lands a little high up on one of Kyungsoo’s thighs. He blinks, sees his life flash before his eyes, and then draws himself back up, spluttering and red-faced.

 

“I’m so s –”

 

“Sorry man!” His apology is cut off by Baekhyun’s louder one. Jongin takes a moment to himself to just breathe.

 

Being here, at this table, with his crush, and a whole lot of _insane_ football players is… _a lot_. Exactly how Kyungsoo had put it. Jongin is flustered beyond belief.

 

“Relax,” comes the calm, quiet voice from next to him, and Jongin peers out shyly from under his lashes to find Kyungsoo smiling kindly. “You’re part of the team now, right? You’re always welcome at this table. And the more you sit here, the more you’ll get used to stuff like _that.”_

 

Kyungsoo _laughs_ just then. Jongin tries his best not to be too charmed, and fails.

 

He doesn’t know if he really agrees that being their water boy for one day a week makes him ‘part of the team’ by any means, but hey. He’s not about to disagree with Kyungsoo. A swarm of butterflies alight in his stomach at the thought of Kyungsoo wanting to make him feel a bit more included.

 

Even if he _does_ think he’s always going to feel a little out of place amongst this particular group of people.

 

“Hey Soo! Party at Sehun’s house tonight!” Baekhyun crashes into their quiet conversation again, with enough volume to announce this to the entire cafeteria, and then points a finger directly at him too. “Jongin, you’re coming!”

 

“Uhh –” Jongin tries to respond in any way or form, but Baekhyun’s already moved on, and is now trying to convince Sehun that they won’t trash his entire house and get him in trouble with his father.

 

Judging by what little Jongin already knows about Baekhyun as a person, he’d go out on a limb and say that’s probably a lie.

 

“You better be there,” Kyungsoo warns, with an amused glint in his eye. “Baek can be a force to reckon with when you don’t comply with his demands.”

 

Jongin nervously eats a fry from his near-forgotten lunch tray.

 

Parties and Jongin… have never been the best mix. Something must show on his face just then, because Kyungsoo lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hey I’m just kidding. He’ll understand if you can’t make it.”

 

And Jongin’s so close. So close to making up some excuse to do with his mother, how she doesn’t let him go to parties, and would kill him if he snuck out. But then, he does it.

 

He asks _that_ question.

 

“Will _you_ be there?”

 

The corners of Kyungsoo’s lips twitch.

 

“ _I’m_ the one who doesn’t have a choice,” he says, rolling his eyes. “If Baekhyun says I’m going, trust me. I’m going.”

 

Jongin laughs, good-naturedly at that. “I’ll see if I can make it then,” he says. Nonchalant.

 

But on the inside, he’s already made up his mind.

 

He _needs_ to be at that party.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You owe me,” Soojung tells him, as they get out of her car, parked halfway down the street from Sehun’s house.

 

It’s a warm, pleasant night out, and Jongin is dressed simply in jeans and a button down – an outfit he’d like to pretend he didn’t spend forty-five minutes fussing over earlier. The street is already packed with other students’ cars, and even from this distance, they can feel the thrum of the music, the bass pounding low in their chests.

 

“I know,” Jongin sighs. “You only told me, like, sixteen times on the drive here.”

 

Soojung laughs and falls into step next to him. Despite her complaints, she’s also taken the effort to dress up, looking extra beautiful in her makeup tonight, and Jongin knows she’s happy to be here. She’s always been a lot more social than he has.

 

“I just don’t understand how you can have a whole one-on-one session with the guy, and _still_ need me to chaperone you to a party just because he’s gonna be here.” She shakes her head lightly in amusement.

 

“It’s not necessarily him, it’s just…” Jongin trails off, letting the swirling feeling in his stomach intensify with the increasing volume of the music. “You know how I am with parties.”

 

They’re heading up the driveway now, and Sehun’s house is sprawled out in front of them in all of its massive splendor. He’s heard the rumors – having a nice house for throwing parties and being rich doesn’t hurt a guy’s popularity in high school – but never actually seen it until now. It’s… really something.

 

There’s a group of teenagers hanging out on the front porch recliners, smoking, while a couple makes out on the front lawn. It sounds like there might be a pool around the back too, because Jongin hears a high-pitched screech from that direction, and then a splash, and a whole lot of laughter afterwards.

 

And there is just so. much. noise.

 

Soojung sighs, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know,” she says, linking her arm with his. “That’s why I’m here to protect you.”

 

She doesn’t give him another chance to hesitate before he’s pulled across the porch, and through the front door.

 

And once inside, Jongin only needs about three seconds to realize this whole thing was a stupid idea.

 

Because there are about a million people at this party, very few of whom he even recognizes. He’s forgotten, since he last came to one of these, what a clusterfuck of different schools and age groups always show up. There’s definitely a few guys hanging around who are a little too old to be hitting on the girls they’re currently talking to.

 

Between the dimmed lights and the ear-splitting music, Jongin feels completely disoriented.

 

And the plan was…. well, he doesn’t really know if there was a plan. But he came here for Kyungsoo. To talk to Kyungsoo, to hang out with Kyungsoo, to… something. 

 

The problem is that he doesn’t know where the fuck Kyungsoo actually _is_.

 

Worry starts to gnaw at his gut. He can’t just wander around like a loser, looking for him for the entire party. Should he ask someone if they’ve seen him? Would that be weird? What if Kyungsoo hasn’t arrived yet? What if he changed his mind about the whole thing, and isn’t even coming?

 

If it were up to Jongin, he’d give up right this second, and head back to the car.

 

But, as if sensing his overflowing anxieties, Soojung squeezes his arm a little tighter in reassurance. “Let’s go find a drink,” she says.

 

And at least that’s a starting point. Jongin lets her lead him through the house in search of the kitchen, all the while looking round with wide eyes to see if he can spot Kyungsoo, or any of the other footballers who’d know where he is.

 

It’s in the kitchen that they do finally find one of them. Baekhyun seems to have captured the attention of a petite, bored-looking girl in pigtails, by trying to balance one full beer bottle on top of another, on the kitchen table. It looks like some kind of attempted bar trick that’s proving unsuccessful in any endeavour other than covering the table top in spilt beer.

 

“I _promise_ it works,” Baekhyun shouts over the music, while the girl simply continues to look bored with his entire existence. “Let me show you – oh hey Jongin!”

 

Abandoning his beer bottle experiment on the table, Baekhyun comes over to him to excitedly pull him further into the room, and indignantly point out: “You don’t have a drink yet.”

 

“We just got here,” Soojung replies for him, because Jongin is still a little overwhelmed.

 

Baekhyun only seems to realize then that he has a friend with him, and peers at her curiously. “Baekhyun right? I’m Soojung.”

 

“The one we stole Jongin from at lunch?” he grins, and she can’t help but smile a little when she nods in response. “Oh, that’s Taeyeon.”

 

The pigtailed girl smiles cutely at both of them, and Jongin finally manages to find his tongue to mumble a shy little: “Hello.”

 

“Drinks, drinks,” Baekhyun snaps his fingers, as if reminding himself of something important.

 

He ducks into the fridge, and a moment later Jongin has a red solo cup filled with an unidentified blue liquid being pressed into his hands. Soojung has one too. “The guys are all out back, through there,” he points to a door across the room that looks like it leads outside. “I’ll join you in a minute, I still have to show this lovely lady that I know my stuff when it comes to bar tricks.”

 

He throws both of them a cheesy wink, and Taeyeon sighs in resignation.

 

Not wanting to get covered in beer – which is increasingly likely when Baekhyun turns back to the kitchen table – the two of them make their way through the back door, into what they discover is the pool area. The music is a little quieter here, but the air fills with noise as an absolutely soaked girl chases after a relatively dry boy, screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

And by “the guys” Baekhyun obviously meant the football team. Because here most of them are, arranged attractively on a stylish patio lounge suite, talking to a group of girls.

 

The prettiest of which is currently perched on the arm of Kyungsoo’s chair, absorbed in conversation with him.

 

At that moment, Kyungsoo says something that Jongin can’t hear from this distance, and the two of them laugh. The corners of her mouth pull up into a perfect smile, and Jongin’s heart sinks.

 

Right. Popular straight boys pick up girls at parties.

 

Why did he think Kyungsoo would be any different?

 

“Hey Jongin!” Jongdae calls out, having spotted him first. “Come join us!”

 

Swallowing down his disappointment, and reminding himself he has absolutely no right to feel upset about this, he goes to join Jongdae and Sehun on their three-seater couch. Soojung perches herself on the armrest, and introduces herself to Jongdae.

 

The four of them are a little on the outskirts of the group, and get involved in their own conversation. Kyungsoo is a too far away from them at the moment to greet or acknowledge, his attention still completely taken by whatever he’s saying to the girl.

 

She’s moved a little closer in the last five minutes. And Jongin’s been glancing over there every thirty seconds, despite his best efforts, but Kyungsoo hasn’t once looked up.

 

He drops his head lower and closer, to talk to her. Eyes darken in intensity, one eyebrow quirks in suggestion and – oh, Jongin’s probably making it up out of self-pity.  _Probably_.

 

He takes a sip of his punch to distract himself. It tastes weird. Extremely sweet, but weird.

 

“– Dance? Uhh, Jongin?”

 

Jongin whips his head up to look at Jongdae, who’s just asked him a question he didn’t quite catch. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Soojung and Sehun were just telling me about the dance team,” he says, the corners of his mouth still curling in that catlike way of his. “I was asking if you dance too?”

 

“Oh,” Jongin breathes, and tries to focus on the conversation at hand. “I used to. Not since middle school though.”

 

From somewhere out of his line of sight, he hears Kyungsoo’s deep, chesty laugh, and has to physically restrain himself from looking over again.

 

“You lost interest then?”

 

“Been trying to get him to join the team for _years_ now,” Soojung says before he can answer, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Jongin flinches away in sensitivity, pouts, and swats her hand. Their little group laughs, and the topic shifts on to other things.

 

And just like that, Jongin’s attention is lost again.

 

The girl has her hand on Kyungsoo’s arm now. Jongin’s probably imagining the innuendo in her smile, but either way, it’s torture.

 

And Soojung can only take about another twenty minutes of it before she abruptly stands up.

 

“We’re going to dance,” she tells the other two, taking Jongin by the arm. He frowns.

 

“What? I don’t want to dance.”

 

“We’re going to dance,” she repeats, and smiles a smile that Jongin knows to be a thinly-veiled threat.

 

She drags him back inside, and right into the crowd of drunk, overly-touchy dancers. Immediately, she puts her arms around his neck and pulls him down and close.

 

It’s always been like this with Soojung. Whenever she _can_ drag him to parties, she makes him dance with her. Because he’s better at it than most guys, and he doesn’t try anything – for obvious reasons.

 

“I didn’t bring you here to watch you stare at him like a kicked puppy all night,” Soojung hisses. “Now _dance._ Forget about it.”

 

And he tries. His best. He even ends up having a little fun – especially when Chanyeol and Baekhyun take to the floor, and start drunkenly hyping him up. He laughs so hard that he almost throws up all the sickly-sweet punch swirling around in his stomach when Chanyeol tries to imitate some of his sexier moves, failing spectacularly.

 

After that, he has to take a timeout, and follows Soojung off the dance floor with tears in his eyes, and chest heaving.

 

“That was fun,” she tells him as they linger on the side-lines, a little bit of laughter still caught in her own voice. “What do you want to do now?”

 

Upstairs, on the landing, a door abruptly slams shut. The noise and movement draws Jongin’s eyes.

 

The breathless smile abruptly fades from his face.

 

“I want to go home,” he says.

 

It’s early still. But maybe Soojung sees what he does. Kyungsoo and the girl from earlier are hanging around on the landing, hand in hand. Her hair’s a little messed up, and his collar isn’t straight anymore.

 

“Okay,” she agrees, eyes flickering back down. She puts a hand on his shoulder to turn him towards the front door.

 

They don’t talk on the drive home.

 

He lies in bed awake that night feeling awful, and thinks maybe too much dancing and bright blue punch shouldn’t be mixed.

 

Or maybe that’s just the heartbreak.

 

Either way, it hurts.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Over the weekend, he gives himself a little talking to. Reminds himself he was never anything to Kyungsoo, and that he doesn’t have a hope in hell anyway, so there’s no reason he should be sad, really.

 

Kyungsoo, when it comes down to it, is almost definitely straight.

 

It sorta works. Enough that he thinks he’ll at least be able to look Kyungsoo in the eye again on Monday.

 

It doesn’t stop the sting when Baekhyun brings the whole thing up over lunch, when he’s been herded along to the football team’s table yet again. Chanyeol had just been in the middle of recounting Jongin’s adventures on the dance floor, and he’s busy trying to duck out of the center of attention any way he can.

 

“You and Soojung were _so_ good dude,” Chanyeol gushes, and Jongin looks down into his lap. “Best dancers at the party.”

 

“You danced?” Kyungsoo asks from his side, looking up curiously. “Where was I?”

 

Around the table, there is a short silence.

 

“Busy with Joohyun,” Baekhyun breaks it with a shit-eating grin, and Jongin wants to leave. “How was she, by the way?”

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “Fine.”

 

“Just ‘fine’?” the other boy presses, resting his chin on a palm. “You know, I saw how long you were in that bedroom, and by my estimates, you didn’t last long.”

 

Around the table, there are a couple of chuckles, and a low ‘ _ooh_ ’ from someone. Jongin doesn’t check who it is – he can feel the tips of his ears turning red. Kyungsoo doesn’t even blush.

 

“I’ll get back to you on that when Taeyeon gives you even thirty seconds of her time,” he says, and adjusts his glasses.

 

The table _explodes._ Baekhyun’s face falls, and then turns an impressive shade of red Jongin doesn’t think he’s ever seen on a person before.

 

Maybe he’s not the only one with a crush around here.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Yeah, so, long story short, looks like he’s straight,” Jongin mopes quietly, after recounting what happened at lunch to Soojung the next day.

 

Their English class started ten minutes ago, and the two of them are, yet again, hiding a conversation behind copies of _Wuthering Heights_ as the teacher drones on in the background.

 

“You don’t _know_ that,” she says, tilting her head. “He could be bi?”

 

“Don’t give me hope, Soojung,” he sighs, a tad over-dramatically. “Hope is a dangerous thing. It gives me ideas.”

 

“Jongin! Soojung!” The teacher’s voice snaps both of their heads out from behind their books. _Not again,_ thinks Jongin, and rolls his eyes internally. “How many times am I going to have to call you two out for talking when you’re meant to be reading along?”

 

Jongin can feel himself reddening, as a few other students whisper, and one giggles.

 

“This happens every. single. day.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to separate the two of you. Jongin, move to the front.”

 

And Jongin’s stomach just… drops.

 

The desk she’s pointing at is the open one next to Kyungsoo. He can feel the other boy’s eyes on him, curious.

 

Soojung gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm as he gathers up his stuff, and moves to the front. He sits down in his new place, and busies himself with finding his spot in the book again, trying as hard as he can _not_ to look at Kyungsoo.

 

But fate, it seems, just isn’t on his side today.

 

“Okay class, I’m going to hand out a worksheet that you’re going to do with the person sitting next to you. Hand it in at the end of the period.”

 

Jongin steels himself before he looks up.

 

“Hello Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s already smiling.

 

“Hi.”

 

This won’t be so bad, he thinks. Kyungsoo seems like a relatively diligent student – he’s never really lived up to the ‘dumb jock’ stereotype – so he’ll just want to get on with the work, right? Because Jongin can _do_ that.

 

Kyungsoo, however, proves him wrong. After he’s written his name on the top of his worksheet, he turns to Jongin, leaning back easily in his chair. “So what happened at the party?”

 

“T-the party?” he asks, pen hovering awkwardly above his own paper.

 

“Yeah. You left early.” Kyungsoo does that distracting thing of pushing his glasses up at the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to get to talk to you, but you left before I even realized.”

 

Jongin opens his mouth to speak, and then closes and opens it again. He doesn’t know how to proceed here.

 

“You… were busy when I was there,” he says. “I wasn’t feeling too good, so I left early.”

 

“Oh.” Kyungsoo frowns briefly, but the expression quickly lifts into a grin. “Drank too much?”

 

Jongin can’t help the surprised little bark of laughter that forces its way past his lips. So they’re joking with each other now? The teacher glances over at them with a frown, and he ducks down, pretending to busy himself with his work.

 

“Something like that,” he lies. In reality, he hadn’t even finished one cup’s worth of punch by the time he left, but that excuse is easy when the truth goes something like _‘I’m a pathetic little fanboy and you broke my heart by sleeping with one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen’._ “The punch was suspicious.”

 

“Word of advice,” Kyungsoo laughs easily. “Never trust any drink that Baekhyun gives you.”

 

Jongin smiles, and drops his eyes down to his worksheet shyly. Kyungsoo’s laugh is so _pleasant_. “Noted.”

 

There is a pause between the two of them, like neither really knows where to take the conversation from here. And Jongin gets the distinct feeling that Kyungsoo _wants_ to talk to him, because a few more moments pass and he doesn’t so much as glance at his worksheet – the obvious diversion here.

 

Maybe he’s not so diligent after all…

 

“So is it true?” Jongin blurts, all of a sudden. His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s saying, because _why?_ “Did you really hook up with that girl?”

 

Kyungsoo looks a little curious. “Joohyun?” he asks, before Jongin can’t start backtracking and begging for forgiveness for crossing a line. He nods instead. “Yeah.”

 

_Oh_ . Well that’s… a bitter pill to swallow. Not that there was much doubt left in Jongin’s mind, but hearing it directly from the source like this doesn’t exactly feel _nice._

 

“Are you dating?” he presses further, then blushes and immediately back tracks. “Oh my god, I’m sorry if that’s personal, I didn’t think –”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles. “No, it’s fine Jongin. We’re friends, right?” he looks up at him with big, wide eyes and a small smile, and Jongin almost _chokes._ He can feel his cheeks getting redder. “And no, we’re not dating.”

 

Jongin takes a moment to suppress the treacherous little leap in his chest. Kyungsoo may be single, but he’s still _straight._

 

“Are you trying to –” Jongin stops to rephrase. So far, Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to be irritated by the questions, and he can’t resist probing a little. “Do you _want_ to date her?”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Not really. It was just a hook up.”

 

Jongin’s forever-red cheeks heat up a little more. He doesn’t know how to process this new information. “What are you?” he laughs. “Some stud?”

 

Kyungsoo crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “Have you been listening to Chanyeol and Baekhyun?” he rolls his eyes. “Because don’t. They exaggerate _everything_ I do. And I’m not, really. I just hook up sometimes, when I feel like it. I’m nothing compared to the rest of the team though.”

 

“Ahh,” Jongin nods, and then leans forward to doodle on the corner of his worksheet, if only to break eye contact for a little while. “But why not? Surely with your popularity, it’s easy.”

 

Kyungsoo hums from beside him, and Jongin glances back to see a wry smile playing over his lips.

 

“I’m not entirely comfortable with that,” he says.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. “I just get the feeling people wouldn’t care at all if it weren’t for the football, y’know?”

 

Jongin blinks, and Kyungsoo seems to take that as his cue to continue.

 

“I mean look at me. Do I seem like the kind of guy who has a lot going for him? I’m quiet, I don’t go to parties unless my friends drag me along. My marks are average, and I’m not super smart even if I _look_ like a complete nerd.” Here he pauses to point to his glasses. “It’s like being on the football team is this set role you fill that just comes with the popularity. And I can’t help but get the feeling that if I, like, quit today or something, people would stop caring about me.”

 

Silence stretches between them. Jongin’s still taking his time to process the longest string of uninterrupted words Kyungsoo Do has spoken to him _ever_.

 

_He does not look like ‘a complete nerd’,_ is his first, extremely unhelpful, yet righteously indignant thought. But really, Kyungsoo _is_ hot as fuck.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo breaks the silence before Jongin can reply. He looks down into his lap, and his cheeks look a little pinker. “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s stupid.”

 

“No!” Jongin finds his words a little too loudly on the first try, and winces when the teacher looks over at them again with a warning frown. He tries again, quieter. “I mean – no. It’s not stupid.”

 

“It’s not?”

 

Jongin smiles. It feels a bit weird to think that Kyungsoo worries about people liking him – about the same kind of stuff that keeps _Jongin_ up at night. A little weird, but also kind of heart-warming.

 

“No, but I hope you realize there are people who _do_ genuinely like you? Like, regardless of popularity? You seem like you’re pretty close to Chanyeol and Baekhyun, and I doubt the team would, like, exile you from their lunch table if you quit. They _like_ you Kyungsoo.” He pauses here, and then rushes a little through his next words. “I like you too, you know.”

 

He wills himself not to blush. But it’s hard when Kyungsoo’s answering smile is positively _radiant._

 

“Thank you.”

 

A moment later, he looks up, and Jongin finds the conversation being turned back on him _._

 

“You’ve been asking me so many questions, it’s not fair” Kyungsoo says, one side of his mouth quirking up. Jongin needs to not find it sexy. “What about _you?_ Tell me about your love life.”

 

“I…” _have been waiting to confess my undying love to you since the day we met._ “Don’t have one.”

 

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? But you’re so handsome.”

 

Jongin’s pulse starts doing all sorts of haywire things at that statement. Kyungsoo Do, the _actual_ love of his life, thinks he’s _handsome._ He suppresses the urge to make some kind of embarrassing flailing motion with his arms.

 

“I’m not really comfortable with hook ups and stuff,” he says, softly.

 

“Why?” Kyungsoo asks, tilting his head curiously to the side. “Is it because you have a girlfriend, perhaps?”

 

Internally, Jongin lets out a sardonic chuckle. “I already told you I don’t.”

 

Kyungsoo’s answering smile is small, prying. “Not even Soojung?”

 

“She’s – no. She’s just a friend.”

 

“So no girlfriend then…” Kyungsoo hums in thought. “Boyfriend?”

 

Jongin chokes.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“I’m asking if you have a boyfriend.”

 

Jongin feels like a deer caught in the headlights. Kyungsoo’s face is friendly and a little curious – not a single trace of malice discernible. But still, Jongin feels the beginnings of panic start to claw at the insides of his throat.

 

Briefly, his mind takes him back to last week in the locker room with the third string boys. Kyungsoo saw _that._

 

“I’m – I’m straight,” he stammers. He swallows. His throat feels tight.

 

Kyungsoo studies his face for a long moment.

 

“Okay,” he says.

 

The silence that follows isn’t really awkward – if the way Kyungsoo’s still comfortably slouched back in his chair is anything to go by. But Jongin just _feels_ so horribly out of place, and he doesn’t know where to take the conversation from here.

 

Fortunately, he’s saved trying to come up with something by the entrance of a third figure. _Un_ fortunately, it’s their teacher, who, seemingly out of nowhere, appears at the front of their desk.

 

“You two boys have done absolutely nothing!” Her voice is loud enough for the whole class to hear, and the two of them cower. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to move you again, Jongin. And if this work isn’t _at least_ halfway done by the end of the period, you’re both getting detention!”

 

They busy themselves with huddling over their worksheets, and the teacher’s heels click on bland, government-issue tiles as she finally walks away.

 

The rest of the period is spent in silence, as they do their work. Occasionally, one of them will break it to ask for help with a question, but with the teacher’s watchful eye trained on them, they don’t dare speak any more than necessary.

 

Kyungsoo looks perfectly comfortable with just going through the motions, but Jongin’s stomach turns nonetheless. He doesn’t know why Kyungsoo would ask that question. At least, not unless –

 

Not unless he suspected something.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

English is the last period before lunch, and so, inevitably, they are stuck together for the walk to the cafeteria. Jongin’s palms sweat, and he wipes them on his jeans.

 

They collect their lunch trays, and Jongin turns right when Kyungsoo turns left, resulting in a collision in the middle of the crowded cafeteria. Their trays bump awkwardly, but luckily nothing falls, and both of them stop to right themselves.

 

“Not sitting with us today?” Kyungsoo asks, and he blinks up at him from behind his glasses in a way that he probably doesn’t realise is freaking adorable. Jongin gulps. How can someone be hot as hell one moment, and then so blindingly cute the next?

 

From the table where he usually sits, he can see Soojung, alone today, watching their interactions with a twinkle in her eye.

 

“No, I, uhh,” he stumbles over his words, runs a hand through his hair. “Been neglecting my old friends too much lately. You know, best friend duties and all.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles. “Someone’s popular, I see.”

 

Jongin’s eyes go wide. “No! I’m not, I just –”

 

“It’s fine Jongin, I was just joking,” Kyungsoo cuts him off with a friendly punch to the arm, not nearly hard enough to hurt. “Just make sure you sit with us tomorrow, okay?”

 

Kyungsoo’s smile is light and playful, but something about the look in his eyes tells Jongin he’s being entirely serious, that he’s not just saying that for niceties. “O-okay,” he stammers, and they part ways.

 

He tries to play it casual even though Soojung’s been watching him like a hawk the whole time. “Hey, how’s your day been?” he says, with forced nonchalance, as he puts his tray down across from her.

 

Her eyes narrow. She isn’t buying it.

 

“Tell me _everything_ ,” she demands. Jongin looks across at her for only about two seconds longer before he plops down, face first, into his lunch tray and groans. At this point in his life, he doesn’t even care if he gets mac ‘n cheese in his hair, for god’s sake.

 

“I told him I’m straight,” he mumbles.

 

“You,” she says. A hard smack lands on his upper arm – harder than Kyungsoo’s punch from earlier, for sure. “You absolute _idiot!_ ”

 

Jongin babbles nonsensically into his food and blindly wards off more slaps from his violent best friend. “God _stop,_ ” he grumbles. “I know, okay? I _know._ ”

 

The hits slow and then stop, and a moment later, he hears a put-upon sigh. He glances up miserably.

 

Soojung rests her cheek on a hand, and leans forward attentively. Her expression has softened.

 

“Tell me everything,” she says again, a little more kindly, this time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hold the position.”

 

Jongin has come to realize something –

 

“ _Hold_ it, Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice is authoritative. Jongin tries not to focus on how he has a thing for it. “Don’t arch your back.”

 

– Because he already knew Kyungsoo would be a good coach before he started these training sessions, but –

 

“Nnggh,” Jongin groans, and falls out of the stance. “I can’t,” he says, looking up miserably.

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow and cocks a hip.

 

– Kyungsoo is a good coach. But he’s also _mean._

 

“Shouldn’t I give you another set for every time you fail?” he asks, and it’s weird that he seems to be enjoying this. _Sadism,_ Jongin thinks. _Sadomasochism,_ his brain adds, and then he tells it to shut up. That is _not_ something he needs to associate with Kyungsoo at this extremely difficult point in his life. “Wasn’t that the agreement here?”

 

Jongin pouts before he realizes what he’s doing.

 

And then his cheeks prick darker in shame. It’s a habit of his – something he uses to get his way from friends and family so often that it’s become subconscious. But it’s also embarrassing as hell – his friends have _always_ teased him about it – and he never wanted it to happen in front of _Kyungsoo_.

 

Surprisingly though, it works.

 

“Unfortunately,” the other relents with a sigh. “We’d be here until midnight if we did that.” Jongin’s pout deepens at the insult hidden in the words, and Kyungsoo grins. “What? It’s true – aww, come on now, don’t be like that, this is normal for new players!”

 

Jongin continues to sulk. Kyungsoo’s warm chuckle brings him back out of his shell.

 

“Look, just finish the next two sets I gave you, and then you can go.”

 

Jongin huffs, and sinks back into the squat position. Kyungsoo starts counting.

 

Training has been hell today, and he’s more than happy to be reaching the end of it. Sure, spending so much one-on-one time with Kyungsoo makes his heart flutter at least every other minute, but Jongin wonders whether it’s worth it when he probably won’t even be able to _walk_ tomorrow.

 

“Ok, stand up again,” Kyungsoo tells him. “That one was good.”

 

For every single, tiny mistake he’d made earlier – for every time he’d ducked out of a block or mixed up his stances – Kyungsoo’s given him another set of exercises to complete at the end of their session. Currently he’s on squats – the last of the last – but they’ve already been though push-ups, calf-raises, and jumping jacks. Jongin feels like he might burst a lung.

 

“Again,” Kyungsoo commands. Jongin obediently sinks down into the squat.

 

Even now, his thighs burn, and his calves ache. He wants nothing more than to just topple over and give up – but he’s still got another set of five left to go, and despite it all, he still doesn’t want to disappoint Kyungsoo.

 

As hopeless as that might be.

 

Said boy is walking around him now to adjust Jongin’s posture. “Straighten your back,” he says, with a palm pressed flat, right in the middle of it. His skin tingles as he obliges.

 

“Ok you can stand up.”

 

Jongin breathes hard through his nose as he comes up. A sigh of relief, of sorts, but an incredibly strained one.

 

He does _not_ look forward to walking up the stairs to maths tomorrow…

 

“And again.” Jongin squats down. Kyungsoo is still close by him.

 

Abruptly, he reaches out a hand, and to Jongin’s absolute dismay and confusion, grabs a good handful of his thigh and _squeezes_. Jongin gets such a fright he falls right out of the stance and onto his ass.

 

Kyungsoo – muscular, sweat-covered, and hot as hell – blinks as innocently as a person could blink. Jongin feels incredulous.

 

“What.” he says, intelligently.

 

Realization seems to dawn on the other’s face. “Oh my god.” His cheeks go pink. “I’m so sorry, did I startle you?”

 

_Yes,_ Jongin wants to scream, as he gets back onto his feet. He opts for nodding instead.

 

“I’m used to being really hands on with the other guys,” he laughs a little sheepishly, and rubs at the back of his neck. “Sometimes I forget how weird it could be to a newcomer.”

 

Slowly, Jongin’s pulse returns to a somewhat acceptable pace. “It’s okay,” he says, even though it’s really not.

 

He gets back into his squat position. Kyungsoo is silent a moment.

 

“You have really nice thigh muscles,” he says, voice quieter than usual. Something in it tells Jongin that this is Kyungsoo Do experiencing mortification. “I just wanted to, um, check. It’s a good thing for defense.”

 

“I used to dance,” Jongin supplies weakly. “So that might be why.”

 

Kyungsoo tells him to come up again, and then says: “Yeah, Chanyeol told me before. Why’d you stop?”

 

Jongin pauses for a moment. Chanyeol talks about him? To Kyungsoo? That makes him feel a little weird… How much does he say? How much does Kyungsoo _know_? Chanyeol’s been around for one too many of Jongin’s ugly preteen haircuts for him not to be worried.

 

Besides. There are bigger things in his life he hopes Chanyeol hasn’t spilled. _Faggot,_ rings in his ears from two weeks ago – from three years ago as well – and he resists the urge to wince.

 

“No real reason,” he mumbles. Kyungsoo doesn’t press.

 

Twenty minutes later, they hit the showers. But as much as Jongin told himself he was strong enough to stick around this time – he isn’t. He finds himself running away after a hasty, five minute-shower.

 

Kyungsoo hears him go, and calls out a goodbye. Jongin swallows past the thickness in his throat and greets him back.

 

When he finally gets home, he flops down on his bed with a groan. Everything hurts. He can still feel the stretch in his calves, his thighs, the burn in his arms, and –

 

The firm print of a hand gripped into his thigh. Fingertips digging in to probe and test the muscle. Okay, maybe that one’s more mental than physical, but Jongin _feels_ it, burning him like a brand.

 

His heart flutters, and he squirms on top of his bed covers, feeling ridiculous.

 

_He likes my thighs,_ he thinks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After Thursday's practice, the rest of Jongin's week passes by pretty uneventfully. He has a surprise geography test on Friday morning he's most likely failed, and manages to weasel his way out of sitting with the footballers to spend more time with Soojung at lunch so he can mope at her. But other than that, nothing much happens.

 

Until he gets a call from Chanyeol on Saturday afternoon, that is.

 

"Hey dude," is Chanyeol's opener. Jongin recognizes his deep voice immediately. "It's Chanyeol. What are you doing right now?"

 

"Hey Chanyeol. Not much."

 

He's meant to be reading another two chapters of _Wuthering Heights_ for English actually. But the book has been sitting unopened on his desk for the whole day, and he most likely isn't going to start now.

 

"Well there's a weekend team meeting at my house in like half an hour," Chanyeol says, but there's amusement in his voice. "You gotta be there."

 

"Um," Jongin is unsure of whether to protest or not. He did not know about this being a thing. And why would the water boy need to be there? "Is that even a thing?"

 

Chanyeol laughs into his phone before he hangs up. "No," he says. "We’re just hanging out, really. But be there anyway."

 

And that's exactly how Jongin finds himself crowded onto Chanyeol's living room couch forty minutes later, with Sehun on his right, and Baekhyun on his left, while Jongdae passes around a container of homemade brownies. Not thinking anything of it, he takes one out of politeness, and nibbles on the corner.

 

It tastes weird. Not inedible, or anything, but the consistency is a little strange and there's the lingering taste of some ingredient in it that he just can't pinpoint.

 

"She was totally into me!" Baekhyun exclaims, drawing Jongin's attention as he finishes off the rest of his brownie. "If it hadn't been for Jongdae swooping in at the last minute, I would have hooked up with her!"

 

He's been going on about some girl he and Jongdae met out at a party last night for the last ten minutes now. The others have been interjecting with snide comments and jokes every now and again, and Jongin finds he's comfortable enough to join in when the rest of them all laugh.

 

The footballers are a very sweet group of people, actually, with most of them going out of their way to make him feel welcome. Jongin's kind of sad he thought they might not be, and all for a bunch of dumb high school stereotypes.

 

The only disappointment, for Jongin, is that Kyungsoo isn't here. Chanyeol had mentioned something about him having to work on a big assignment due on Monday, which is why he couldn't make it. And to think Jongin had spent all that time hunting down his nicest clean shirt to wear in case the other had been here.

 

Quite a lot of the rest of the team couldn’t make it too. So currently it's just the five of them - Jongin, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, and Jongdae - hanging out in the living room.

 

Chanyeol's parents aren't home at the moment, but Jongin doesn't really get why the others had made such a big deal of it when they aren't exactly doing anything punishable right now. The music playing in the background of their conversation isn't even loud enough to disturb his own strict mother, Jongin thinks. And Chanyeol's mom and dad have always been lenient by anyone's standards.

 

"You need to stop acting like you aren't totally hung up on Taeyeon, dude," comes Jongdae's response now. He's grinning though, and it's light hearted. "We all know. C'mon - remember what happened when you hooked up with Sunyoung?"

 

Sehun and Chanyeol laugh along with him, while Baekhyun is stony-faced and pouty. Jongin is too out of the loop to understand the reference.

 

"Taeyeon found out about it and he sulked for weeks," Sehun explains to him, when he sees Jongin looking lost. Baekhyun squawks loudly.

 

"I did not!"

 

"You did too," Jongdae counters. "So honestly, I was doing you a favour.”

 

The rest of the group starts to bicker amongst themselves, playfully and loudly, with Baekhyun making the most noise. It’s then, with a grumble of his stomach, that Jongin realizes he hasn't eaten lunch yet. But luckily, amidst the commotion of a group of rowdy high school-aged boys, no one else but him notices the sound.

 

The box of brownies is still open on the coffee table, and there are plenty left. No one pays any attention as he takes another one and eats it, as well as a third. With his hunger somewhat abated now, he leans back into the couch to listen to the conversation swirl around him, joining in only every now and again when he is asked a question.

 

It probably takes a full forty-five minutes of him laughing along with the others, telling them about his practices with Kyungsoo (and trying not to stammer and blush while doing so), and denying Chanyeol's persistent requests to teach him some dance moves, for anything to change, really. And then it takes another fifteen, or so, for him to actually notice.

 

But when he does - it's while leaning back into some of the softest couch cushions he's sat on in his _life_ , and looking up at the ceiling. The rough bumps on the plaster are suddenly fascinating - he's never noticed what a beautiful pattern they form. Never noticed how they seem to move and swirl the longer he stares.

 

His heart seems to slow down as it beats in his chest, with each thud strong and pronounced against his rib cage. He can feel his breath draw carefully in and out in a sense of heightened sensitivity, the warm air of the room crawling over his skin. Honestly, he could just sit on this couch and stare at the ceiling all day if everyone left him alone.

 

But they don't. Sehun touches his thigh with the lightest brush of fingertips. "You guys feeling it yet?" he asks. Jongin's still processing how one tiny caress of skin could feel like so much, and doesn't really process the words. "I sure am."

 

There is what sounds, to Jongin's ears, like a chorus of agreement from the rest of the room. Each voice is both individually clear, and inextricable from the next.

 

"This is the good stuff," says someone else, from the opposite couch. Logically, it sounds like Chanyeol, but Jongin's brain is too hung up on the deep richness of the voice. How he's never noticed it to be both gruff and melodious at the same time. He doesn't turn his head to make sure of who it is - the bright vividness of the colors in the room suddenly catch his eye, and they distract him.

 

Sehun flops down on his shoulder. "You ever been high before?" he asks.

 

Jongin turns to look at him. His body feels slow, lazy, and too relaxed. The fabric of Sehun's sweater feels amazing against his bare arm. "I'm high?" he asks.

 

In the back of his mind, some kind of panicky alarm goes off. Something wants to make itself known. But it can't quite get through the thick, warm smog clouding his head, the feeling that everything around him - every sight, sound, smell, touch - is so much, so intense, so beautiful.

 

"Listen to the music," Sehun whispers softly. Jongin doesn't think about how Sehun's so close he only has to whisper to be heard: his mind won't stay on one topic for that long. Suddenly he notices the song playing in the background - it's been there this whole time, but has it? Has each note really been this clear? Each beat this pronounced? Jongin's lips part around lyrics he thinks he might remember from somewhere, and his eyes slip closed to listen.

 

"Wouldn't it be awesome to dance to this?" Sehun asks, voice drawled and lazy. Jongin feels a weight in his lap. He opens his eyes to look at Sehun. Something brushes his nose. It's Sehun's nose. He glances down. The thing in his lap is one of Sehun's legs.

 

Jongin tries to say 'I don't think I can dance right now' because he can't, not really. His body is too sated, heavy, happy, and stupid relaxed to get off this couch right now. He doesn't really mind though.

 

But then his eyes shift and he sees Sehun's lips, and loses his train of thought again. They're fascinating. So pink, with the lower one a little plumper, his whole mouth rather small. They're kind of perfect in their own way. They're also right in front of him.

 

"I don't want to dance right now," he ends up saying instead. Sehun moves, but he can't focus on that, not when his vision's being blocked by something too close, and there's a warm press against his mouth.

 

He pushes back against whatever it is to test it out and get a feel for the object. It's soft. The thing goes away and then Sehun's face comes into view - Jongin puts two and two together: Sehun just kissed him.

 

Again, in the back of his mind, those alarm bells fight to make themselves known. But Jongin's head seems to spiral, loses them, and thinks about how amazing that felt - he wants to do it again. He wants to kiss Sehun again.

 

Sehun's mouth is still right there, so he leans forward, and does just that.

 

He's not entirely sure what he's doing though - their noses bump, and teeth knock together. The pain seems duller than it normally would, and he forgets all about it when Sehun smiles, cups his face, and sets him on the right path for their mouths to brush together again, tantalizingly slow. It's not his first kiss, but as it turns out, a peck on the mouth with some girl he didn't really like on the elementary school playground hasn't prepared Jongin much for making out with someone.

 

Sehun takes it slow though, with how he sucks gently on his top lip. If Sehun is feeling anything like he is right now, Jongin thinks, Sehun probably can't _help_ but take it slow, with a sleepy-drunkenness blanketing all of limbs. Jongin thinks he should probably make some kind of effort to kiss back, and copies Sehun by sucking on the other's bottom lip in return.

 

Sehun moans softly. Jongin feels the vibration of it in his whole chest. When did Sehun end up on top of him? He doesn't know, but suddenly he’s conscious of the warm weight of another person pushing him back into the couch, Sehun's calves bracketing his thighs, knees pressed into the sides of his hips.

 

Something wet touches his mouth, Jongin opens his to let it in. A moment after Sehun licks inside he realizes that it's a tongue, and curiously licks back. Sehun's tongue curls around his - the whole thing is warm and wet and new to him. He wonders if he's only enjoying it because he's high, or if making out normally feels this good.

 

Making out. Kissing. Jongin thinks about that as he moves languidly under Sehun in the kiss. He's making out with Sehun Oh? Because he's high? That thing in the back of his mind has _opinions_ on that.

 

The haziness in his head has a sudden break. _You wouldn't be doing this if you weren't high_. The thing in the back of his head has a voice now. He takes a moment to process the words.

 

Somewhere in the room, a person breaks out into a loud fit of giggles. It sounds like Baekhyun. Jongin gets distracted. There are other people in the room? Oh right.

 

His mind suddenly pushes that last set of his thoughts collectively into one, and they click together with startling clarity.

 

He's making out with Sehun Oh in a room full of people. People who don't know he's gay. People who _shouldn't_ know he's gay.

 

Carefully, he places a hand on Sehun's chest and pushes him back a little. Their mouths detach. Sehun wiggles in his lap.

 

Is _Sehun_ gay? Would he be making out with Jongin if he wasn't? Would he be making out with Jongin if he wasn't _high_ ? Would _Jongin_ be making out with _Sehun_ if _he_ wasn't high? Does Jongin want to kiss Sehun? Is Jongin _attracted_ to Sehun?

 

At that, his mind conjures up images of someone else. Of someone else's mouth. Oh yes, Kyungsoo. He isn't here right now. Jongin wants to kiss _him_ , not Sehun.

 

Something panicky claws at his stomach.

 

"Hey, you okay?" asks a voice too close. Jongin looks up with wide eyes. It's Sehun. Sehun is still in his lap.

 

His hands grip into fists. Sehun shifts. His hands were on Sehun's thighs. Gripping into fists on Sehun's thighs. He removes them, fast.

 

"Dude, what's wrong?"

 

His body feels light all of a sudden. Sehun is next to him now, and not on top of him.

 

"Is he okay?" someone else asks. There are other people here and Jongin doesn't like that at all. He can't believe he's done something this _stupid_.

 

Jongin likes the football team. But he doesn't know if he can trust them with this. Are they going to out him now? Will the whole school find out? Will _Kyungsoo_ find out?

 

There are people talking around him, above him, beside him.

 

"How many did he eat?"

 

Jongin's heartbeat is too slow, too loud. Is he sick? Is this okay?

 

"I don't know! I wasn't watching!"

 

He swallows. His mouth is dry. It doesn't feel good.

 

"Well why the hell _not_?"

 

His head is in his hands. He's not sure when that happened.

 

"I thought he knew! Oh my god, his mom is going to kill me."

 

Breathing. Breathing too fast. Jongin feels like he's hyperventilating. Why is everyone talking about him and not _helping_ him? He probably needs to see a doctor.

 

"Don't be an _idiot_ , we can't send him home. You're not the only one who's going to get in trouble about this."

 

Something liquid touches his fingers. He removes them from his face - some clear substance like water. Belatedly, he realises he's crying. Big, shaky breaths that don't feel like enough to get oxygen into his body, and a blocked nose that makes his haywire breathing even more chaotic.

 

There's a lot of noise around him, but Jongin has lost track of the voices now. He doesn't want to go through what happened in middle school again. He _doesn't_.

 

"Jongin?" A hand lays on his shoulder. "Jongin, it's okay." It sounds like Sehun's voice. "You're gonna be fine."

 

He sure as hell doesn't _feel_ fine. His whole body shakes now. His mouth is still dry. He kind of wants to ask for something to drink, but doesn't know if he can talk, really.

 

"Chanyeol's phoning Kyungsoo now, he'll know what to do." That doesn't ease Jongin's mind at all. The last person he wanted to know about this was Kyungsoo. The _last_. He chokes on a sob. "Do you remember how many brownies you ate?"

 

He doesn't understand why he's being asked that question right now. "Three," he manages to choke anyway. From his other side, someone sucks in a big breath.

 

"Kyungsoo said to bring him over. _Fuck_ , he's so mad," Jongin hears Chanyeol say. His head is still in his hands. His heart is still too slow and his breath too fast. "I can still drive, I'll take him."

 

"Can you stand?" someone says, close to him. Jondgae?

 

"Let's help you up." Baekhyun?

 

Jongin doesn't know. He isn't really processing what everyone's saying - his attention isn't enough to focus on all the things happening right now. But somehow or another, he feels arms help him up, and he's guided to the front door, and into the passenger seat of someone's car.

 

A moment later the driver's door opens and Chanyeol slides in. Jongin looks up with blurry vision - Chanyeol doesn't look happy. Jongin doesn't feel very happy either.

 

The car starts, and Jongin's body is still too hyper-sensitive not to feel the thrum of the engine, not to notice every tiny bump in the driveway as they back out onto the road. It makes him feel jumpy, distressed.

 

"Dude I'm so sorry about this," Chanyeol tells him now. He looks genuinely upset. "I thought you knew, but I should have told you. I should have _warned_ you."

 

Jongin's crying again. Or maybe he never really stopped. He can't really bring himself to speak and answer Chanyeol.

 

"But Kyungsoo's gonna fix you up, don't worry." They turn a corner, and Jongin wants to throw up but it isn't from motion sickness. "He's been through this before. Baekhyun and me are idiots sometimes."

 

There's something Jongin needs to say. He lurches forward as the car comes to a stop. He's panicking. He catches his face in his hands.

 

_Don't tell Kyungsoo about this_ , he wants to say. _Please don't tell Kyungsoo I'm gay._

 

His brain to mouth filter stops working though. "I'm gay," he says instead. His words replay themselves to his ears, over and over. That's not what he meant to say, and he sobs. "Chanyeol I'm gay."

 

He looks up. Chanyeol is looking over at him with his brow furrowed, when he should probably be looking at the road instead.

 

"Fuck," Jongin says. " _Fuck_!" He spits it this time. Chanyeol's face grows even more worried. "I shouldn't have told you that."

 

There is a long silence between them. Jongin hasn't been watching where the car is going but he feels the engine cut out, as Chanyeol parks the car. His stomach drops.

 

"Kyungsoo's gonna take care of you now," is all Chanyeol says. His voice sounds kind of sad. "Don't worry, okay? You're gonna be fine. Kyungsoo's here."

 

Chanyeol gets out of the car now, and before Jongin can even think about moving to get out, he's round the passenger side, opening his door for him and helping him out. He stands, shakily, and looks up.

 

Kyungsoo is indeed here. Hurrying down the driveway. "Chanyeol what the _fuck_?" he snarls. Jongin's never seen him look so livid before.

 

"I thought -"

 

"I don't _care_ what you thought," Kyungsoo snaps. "Jongin," he says, voice softer, worried. There's a hand on his elbow, guiding him towards the house. Jongin's heartbeat is still too slow. "Jongin, come with me."

 

A fresh wave of tears runs down his face. On top of everything else, Jongin doesn't want Kyungsoo to see him like this. All shaky, crying, and with a snotty nose he hasn't gotten to wipe yet. He doesn't say anything.

 

"Do you need any help?" Chanyeol calls from behind them, voice unsure.

 

"Go home," Kyungsoo circles to face him, eyes flashing. "You've done enough."

 

The fact that he's the reason Kyungsoo is mad at Chanyeol, and that's not something he wants, flickers briefly through his head. But he can't focus. It's gone as soon as it came. _Is Kyungsoo mad at me_? replaces it rather quickly.

 

He's led inside, and seated on a bar stool. Kyungsoo's house? This is Kyungsoo's house. Kyungsoo has disappeared. Then he's back, setting something down on the counter in front of him. Jongin's too busy looking at his face to figure out what it is. His breathing is still too fast. His previous thought comes back.

 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks. The words sound strange, his mouth is too dry. Kyungsoo lifts the thing on the counter to just under his chin.

 

"Drink," he says, and Jongin looks down. It's a glass of... juice? Something. He doesn't know. There's a straw in whatever it is. Obediently, he wraps his lips around the straw and takes a sip.

 

He looks up at Kyungsoo as he drinks. His eyebrows are furrowed. They're really close. Jongin looks at his mouth. He thinks back to kissing Sehun earlier, and how nice it felt. He wants to kiss Kyungsoo too.

 

His mouth doesn't feel so dry anymore. He removes it from the straw, and repeats his question. "Are you mad at me?"

 

His voice sounds a little more normal now. Kyungsoo sighs. "No, not you. Chanyeol and the other guys? Yes. Mostly Chanyeol though. What was he thinking?"

 

Jongin doesn't answer. Jongin doesn't know what Chanyeol was thinking. Jongin doesn't even know what Chanyeol was thinking when he told him he was gay. He told Chanyeol he was gay? Oh _god_ , he shouldn't have done that.

 

"Breathe," Kyungsoo tells him. He realises he's hyperventilating again. "Slower."

 

Jongin tries. It takes a long while of Kyungsoo guiding his breathing for him to calm down, but it works. His heart is still beating too slowly though. His mouth is dry again.

 

"I think you should rest," Kyungsoo says, getting up. A hand on Jongin's shoulder tells him he should get up too, and so he does. "Sleep it off. You can take my brother's room."

 

Kyungsoo has a brother? Jongin didn't know that. Where is Kyungsoo’s brother right now? Doesn't he need his own room? Is it really okay for Jongin to sleep in it?

 

These thoughts are interrupted too as Kyungsoo guides him, carefully and slowly, up the stairs. Kyungsoo is so gentle. Jongin really likes Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is still holding the glass of juice in the hand that isn't pressed into Jongin's lower back. Kyungsoo's hand is on his lower back? A shiver runs down Jongin's spine. This is too much.

 

He's being walked towards a bed now, and falls back into it. The blankets are so soft and fluffy against his charged skin. "How do you feel?" Kyungsoo asks, with concern written all over his face, and a warm palm pressed to his arm. Jongin wants to push into the feeling, wants to grab it and hold onto him. He can't do that. Kyungsoo doesn't know that he's gay.

 

He opens his mouth to reply, and coughs. His throat is still all phlegmy from the crying. "Here," Kyungsoo says, when he's done, and holds a tissue out to his face for him. "Blow."

 

Kyungsoo blows his nose for him, and wipes the remaining tears from his face. Jongin isn't crying anymore. The whole thing is weirdly domestic, but then Jongin's high. Kyungsoo's just concerned, just taking care of him. The only weird one right now is Jongin.

 

"How do you feel?" Kyungsoo repeats, and something moves against Jongin’s lips. It's air - breath. Kyungsoo is so close to him, leaned forward from wiping his tears. Why is he still so close?

 

Kyungsoo only seems to realise it then, because his eyes widen. But Jongin - Jongin _wants_ him that close. He isn't thinking, still can't concentrate enough to remember why he shouldn't bring up a hand and rest it on Kyungsoo's cheek to keep him there, before he pulls away. So he does.

 

Kyungsoo's eyebrows quirk. His eyes widen. His breath comes out in a short, sharp burst that Jongin feels against his skin. _Surprise_ , his mind summarizes for him. Kyungsoo is surprised.

 

Kyungsoo's tongue shoots out to lick his lips - a nervous habit - but otherwise he stays motionless. He looks confused. Jongin's eyes catch the movement, and follow it. They drop to Kyungsoo's lips.

 

Kyungsoo's lips. So perfect, so plump. So close to him. They're still a little wet and shiny from where Kyungsoo just licked them. And Jongin, in that moment, wants nothing more than to kiss him.

 

His heartbeat is still too slow even though he thinks it should be speeding up as he leans forward to close the distance between them. His mind blanks out to white noise, forgets to tell him all the reasons that he shouldn't do this.

 

They're a centimeter apart. Less. Jongin closes his eyes.

 

"Don't," Kyungsoo whispers. Breathes. It doesn't matter - Jongin feels it more than he hears it. "Jongin, don't."

 

Jongin opens his eyes. "Why?" he gulps. He's never been this close to anyone before - so close he can count every eyelash, can see every facet of Kyungsoo's irises. He wants to kiss him _so bad._

 

"You'll regret this," Kyungsoo says, and then he's pulling back. "You're high Jongin. You won't feel the same in the morning."

 

The look on Kyungsoo's face as he gets up brings everything crashing down in Jongin's head again.

 

He can't pinpoint one expression. Anger? Sadness? Frustration? All of it flickers over Kyungsoo's features, as he watches him, conflicted.

 

Jongin _did_ that. He tried to kiss Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo who hasn't shown any kind of attraction towards him. Kyungsoo who probably isn't gay. Kyungsoo who's now going to think he's disgusting and hate him for this.

 

"I'm sorry," he says, and puts both hands over his face. "Please don't hate me."

 

Kyungsoo's back is to him now. "You should sleep." He takes one step towards the door, turns to glance at him over his shoulder. "Go to sleep Jongin."

 

It's not an answer. Jongin wants to cry again. Maybe he is crying. His face feels weird and numb.

 

"I'm leaving now," Kyungsoo tells him. And then he's out of the door.

 

Jongin just lies there, and kind of wishes marijuana _was_ strong enough to kill him.

 

His heartbeat is still too slow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jongin wakes, the next morning, to a soft knock on a bedroom door that isn't his. He's completely disoriented, and even when Kyungsoo comes into the room, points him towards the bathroom, and leaves a fresh set of clothes on the end of the bed, it still takes him until the other has left to remember what exactly happened yesterday.

 

It only really hits him as he stands under the warm spray of the shower for far too long, trying to ease the ache out of his muscles and the pain out of his head. Afterwards, he looks at his puffy eyes in the foggy bathroom mirror, and tells himself he's a idiot.

 

He tried to kiss Kyungsoo. _Jongin Kim_ tried to kiss _Kyungsoo Do_ , like that was even a _remotely_ acceptable thing to do.

 

And Kyungsoo had rejected him. If Jongin had had even one tiny sliver of hope that somewhere, deep down, Kyungsoo had _ever_ harbored any kind of buried, hidden feelings for him before yesterday, it's gone now.

 

The rejection doesn't feel good. And Kyungsoo probably hates him now. Jongin just wants to go home at this point, curl up in bed, and maybe phone Soojung to cry a bit.

 

But he can't. He's still in Kyungsoo's house, even though the other probably doesn't want him here. He has to go down and face him at some point.

 

Slowly, he makes his way down the stairs, wearing borrowed sweatpants and a T-shirt that are too big to belong to Kyungsoo. Maybe his brother? Jongin will have to ask - that is if Kyungsoo doesn't want him out of his sight, right off the bat.

 

He can hear movement from the kitchen, so he follows the sound, and discovers Kyungsoo with his back to him, cooking something on the stove. He hovers shyly in the door frame until Kyungsoo glances back over his shoulder and notices him.

 

"Hey Jongin, come in," he gestures towards the breakfast bar - Jongin recognizes it from his fuzzy memory of being seated on a barstool yesterday afternoon. "Have a seat. I'm just making breakfast."

 

He doesn't detect any kind of hostility in Kyungsoo's voice or demeanor as he obediently goes to sit down. Not even when Kyungsoo switches off the stove, and pushes a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. Jongin looks down at it. He doesn't want to be rude, or anything, but he isn't exactly hungry right now.

 

His stomach twists a little, in fact. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he says, still looking down.

 

"It wasn't your fault. It was Chanyeol's." Kyungsoo's voice is calm. But that's not what Jongin meant.

 

"I meant I'm sorry for," he pauses here, sucks in a breath, and then rushes through his next words. "For trying to kiss you."

 

Kyungsoo is silent for a moment. He has his back to Jongin as he serves up his own breakfast, so even when he speaks, there's no way of gauging his expression. "It's fine. People like to kiss people when they're high."

 

Jongin thinks he'd probably definitely still like to kiss Kyungsoo, and he isn't high, so that logic might be a little flawed. But at least the apology is out of the way, so he keeps quiet - no need to argue and reveal himself anyway. Kyungsoo comes to sit next to him, his expression pleasant, mild.

 

"Thanks for the food," Jongin says, taking a bite. He still isn't hungry, but Kyungsoo made his for him and he'll damn well eat it.

 

The fact that he's still this caring even after yesterday makes Jongin fall just a tiny bit deeper for him. But he doesn't have a chance, and it just makes him sad.

 

"You're welcome."

 

"And for letting me stay here. Are your parents okay with that? I don't wanna get you in trouble."

 

"They're away for the weekend. They don't know."

 

"Oh. And your brother?"

 

"At college. He's three years older than me."

 

"Oh," Jongin repeats. They eat the rest of their meal in silence. Kyungsoo doesn't seem particularly chatty, but Jongin can't really tell if it's because of him, or if Kyungsoo just isn't a morning person.

 

Even though he's apologized and Kyungsoo isn't obviously angry at him, there's still this awful sense of dread pooling in the bottom of his stomach. Jongin jiggles his leg nervously - he told Chanyeol that he's gay.

 

Which isn't _great_.

 

After breakfast, Kyungsoo drops him off at home. Apparently Chanyeol had phoned his mom last night to say he'd fallen asleep on the couch and that it was fine for him to stay over. And since Chanyeol can do no wrong in her eyes, she'd accepted the excuse without a second thought.

 

But Jongin's got bigger worries than getting in trouble with his mom right now anyway. Even throughout the drive, he couldn't really tell if the air between him and Kyungsoo has been cleared, or whether things are still awkward. And now Chanyeol knows this whole big thing about him that could possibly ruin his reputation around the school.

 

He sort of trusts Chanyeol with it. But if he mentioned it to someone? He doesn't know the rest of the team that well. _And_ they saw him make out with Sehun. All in all, there will most likely be rumors going around the school when he sets foot in the building on Monday.

 

After saying hello to his mother, he disappears up the stairs into his bedroom, and flops down on his bed. He lets out a deep sigh.

 

Basically, Jongin has no idea what to do. Everything is a mess. He curls in on himself.

 

A moment later he has his phone out and pressed to his ear. The dial tone sounds, the phone on the other end rings four times, and then a female voice picks up with a: "Jongin?"

 

"Soojung," he says, and then covers his eyes with the hand not holding his phone. He tries not to cry.

 

"Soojung I fucked up."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even though Soojung had tried her best to calm Jongin down during their phone call on Sunday, Jongin still walks into the school building on Monday morning feeling jittery - a sick kind of nervousness that makes him want to turn around and walk straight back home. At the very least, she'd managed to assure him that no one would find out about the whole making-out-with-Sehun-Oh thing, because the footballers aren't about to out their own. He's still entirely unconvinced that Chanyeol can keep a secret as big as Jongin's to himself, however.

 

He's hyper-aware of every set of eyes on him throughout the day. Every whisper in the corridors. Every time anyone calls his name to get his attention, he expects the worst. Nothing bad has happened yet - but it's not knowing whether everyone _knows_ that drives him crazy, most of all.

 

It's only halfway through the day, when he asks to go to the bathroom during maths, that he finally gets some closure on the issue. Just as the door of the bathroom swings shut behind him, he turns, and nearly smacks straight into Chanyeol, who's about to leave

 

"Hey Jongin," he greets, his normally friendly smile a little sheepish. "Look, I'm really, _really_ sorry about Saturday."

 

_It's fine,_ he almost says, automatically. But it's not. It's not fine.

 

"Did you tell anyone?" Jongin asks instead, and he hates how desperate he sounds. But he _is_ desperate, and that's the thing about this. If Chanyeol's outed him to anyone else, he doesn't even know what he'll do with the information. He doesn't think he can bear going back to what it was like in middle school.

 

"Tell anyone what?" asks Chanyeol. He looks concerned.

 

"You _know_ what." Jongin runs a hand through his hair in frustration, and looks around the bathroom to check that they're really alone. He lowers his voice. "Did you tell anyone that I'm gay, Chanyeol?"

 

And Chanyeol's face just _drops_ . Jongin's not usually one to get so upset, and if there's one thing he knows about Chanyeol Park, it's that he _hates_ making people upset.

 

It's not Chanyeol's fault though, really. This is all on Jongin. How could he _be_ so stupid?

 

"No. Why would I?" he looks at Jongin like a kicked puppy. "Why would I tell anyone that Jongin? You were fucking _fried_ at the time, I didn't even know if you really meant it."

 

Jongin softens a little, feeling a bit of tension bleed out of his shoulders. It still isn't enough though - for most people 'I didn't tell anyone' doesn't mean _everyone._

 

_"_ Not even Kyungsoo?" Jongin asks, and he really hopes Chanyeol can't tell how much the question means to him. He hates that the one person Chanyeol might not count as 'anyone' just happens to be the one that matters most in this. "You guys are best friends, Chanyeol."

 

Chanyeol opens his mouth to answer. Then he stops, hesitates, and closes it. It looks, in that moment, like something clicks into place in his mind, the realization dawning over his face.

 

Jongin bites his lip almost hard enough to bleed in the ensuing silence.

 

"No," Chanyeol says, and his face changes again, hardening. "Not even Kyungsoo. Do you really think i'd out you against your will like that?"

 

He looks a little hurt, and Jongin feels a little bad. He drops his eyes to the floor in shame.

 

Chanyeol has never been anything but nice to him. Of course he wouldn't do something like that.

 

"Buuut..." Chanyeol starts, and he sounds like he thinks he shouldn't be saying whatever he's about to say. "I think _you_ should tell him."

 

Jongin's eyes lift back to Chanyeol's face at that. "Why would I?" he asks, voice soft, and brows furrowed. They lock eyes, and Chanyeol hesitates again.

 

He shakes his head after a moment, guilt creeping into his expression. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything."

 

"What do you mean by that?" Jongin persists, confused. The other boy makes as if to leave. "Chanyeol - what?"

 

"Look," Chanyeol has one hand on the door handle, but turns back to face him when he talks. "I really can't say anything more than this: tell Kyungsoo. Tell Kyungsoo what you told me."

 

"Chanyeol -"

 

"I have to go," he says, shaking his head as he pushes the door open. "I shouldn't have said that Jongin, I'm sorry."

 

"Chanyeol -" Jongin protests again, but the other boy's gone before he can stop him.

 

He stares after Chanyeol for a few seconds after he disappears, then shakes his head. He doesn't get it.

 

He doesn't get it _at all._

 

But despite that, he feels relieved. At least now he can get on with his day without all the added stress of not knowing whether Chanyeol has his back or not.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

With Jongin's main worry soothed, most of his mental energy, for the rest of the week, is spent on trying to ascertain where he stands with Kyungsoo at the moment, and whether their relationship has been affected at all by recent events.

 

He's still feeling totally crushed from being rejected, of course. And it's no doubt going to take ages for him to properly get over it. But he'd like to at least know that the other boy doesn't hate him, or anything. In the meantime, he can internalize his own pathetic pining.

 

On Monday, Kyungsoo is quiet while sitting next to him in English, but they do have work to get on with, so it's not really a good measure. On Tuesday, Jongin is pushed along to the footballer's table by an over-excited Baekhyun, and he's downright _prickly._

 

He does still seem to be angry at Chanyeol though, if the way he'd brushed off the arm on his shoulder and the taller's fallen expression are anything to go by. Jongin feels kind of bad for causing the rift, but Kyungsoo's intimidating as hell when he's angry, and he can't bring himself to say anything on Chanyeol's behalf.

 

Either way, he can't tell if the mood is anything to do with him, or just a reaction to fighting with one's best friend. He's way too cowardly to ask either.

 

He does manage to talk to Sehun though, after their lunch period and just before the next class. He just wants to make sure stuff is okay - and Sehun assures him it’s fine, the whole making out thing is a given when a bunch of people get high together. Despite it all, things don’t feel awkward, and Sehun seems perfectly genuine.

 

And so Jongin is relieved.

 

On Wednesday, he doesn't sit with the footballers. But he does spot the team chatting together in the hallway, near Kyungsoo's locker, before school starts. Said boy isn't smiling, but he's talking avidly about something to Chanyeol, so Jongin figures they must be okay again.

 

By Thursday's practice, any tension possibly left between them seems to have dissipated. Kyungsoo is as friendly and open as ever when he calls for Jongin as the other footballers leave, so they can start their weekly training session together.

 

"We have a practice match next Friday against another school," Kyungsoo tells him, as Jongin rolls his ankles in preparation to run a lap of the pitch. "Our regular water boy can't make it. Do you think you can fill in for him? We'd want you there anyway."

 

Jongin is flattered. "Of course, yeah. I'm free."

 

"You're pretty quick, you know?" Kyungsoo says, looking him up and down as they start their jog. Jongin tries not to preen internally, and fails. "You a runner?"

 

"No," Jongin replies, pacing his breath. "I have three dogs. When I got them, my mom threatened to give them away if I didn't take care of them properly, and that includes running them every morning."

 

"Before school?" Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. Jongin nods. "That makes sense then. Speed's important to avoid being tackled."

 

They move onto practicing some blocking, with Kyungsoo holding the dummy, and Jongin trying his best to push back against the quarterback's strength. He doesn't really stand a chance though, and after about fifteen minutes' worth of failed attempts, Kyungsoo lets him take a break.

 

"Has Baekhyun invited you to his party tomorrow night?" Kyungsoo asks, shifting the topic from assuring Jongin his blocks aren't as bad as he thinks, and that he just needs more practice.

 

"Yeah," Jongin says, pausing to gulp back some water. "He's been going on about it all week."

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, and watches him. Jongin doesn't know if it's hot or disconcerting, but he doesn't get the reason for it anyway.

 

This time _Kyungsoo’s_ the one that asks: "Are you going?"

 

Jongin maintains eye contact for a moment more, but then remembers himself. He looks away shyly - and Kyungsoo probably doesn't notice him blush because of how flushed his cheeks already are from the workout, which is good.

 

"Are _you_?" he counters.

 

Jongin hadn't been planning on going, really. He's still recovering from last week's shenanigans. But when he glances up, Kyungsoo's still looking at him like that, and that weird tension from their first practice together is back.

 

"I'll go if you go," Kyungsoo says.

 

Jongin doesn't get it. He feels like he's being put on the spot, and he doesn't even know why. But if Kyungsoo wants him to be there, he'll be there. Even if he isn't sure the reason for it.

 

"Alright," he says weakly. "I'll go."

 

Kyungsoo's answering smile is an enigma.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, Jongin gets a text from Soojung telling him that she has a cold, and feels like hell. She isn't at school either.

 

Normally, the only thing about a situation like this that would concern him would be her health, and how fast she gets better. But today, he has other issues, and the news throws him into somewhat of a mild panic.

 

"I'm sorry," she croaks into the receiver when he calls her after school. "I know I said I'd come with you tonight but I really feel too shitty Jongin."

 

Jongin sighs. "I know."

 

"I _want_ to be there, I promise. But I really can't." She does sound exhausted and stuffed up, and Jongin can't really hold it against her. But he's stressed out about going to this party alone.

 

"It's not your fault," he concedes. "And I hope you get better soon."

 

"Cheer up Nini," Soojung says, in response to the hint of worry in his tone. "You'll be fine. It's just a party."

 

Jongin's not so sure about that. Socializing stresses him out, and judging by how much the events of the _last_ party he went to upset him, this might not be the best idea. Soojung's always been somewhat of a safeguard when it comes to his feelings, and now he doesn't even have _that_.

 

"Maybe," he says. "I don't know."

 

But he kinda sorta _did_ promise Kyungsoo he'd be there, and there's no going back on that now _._ So regardless of all the apprehension swirling around in his stomach, come eight o' clock, he finds himself crowding into the back of Chanyeol's car next to Yixing and behind Minseok, waving goodbye to his mother as she hovers in the doorway, and setting off for Baekhyun's party.

 

"Thanks for fetching me," he says, straining to be heard over the music pulsing from Chanyeol's speakers. Chanyeol shoots him a grin over his shoulder in response.

 

Kyungsoo is already there when they arrive. _Baekhyun_ is already drunk.

 

"Heeeey," he slurs, coming over to greet them as they push through the front door. He tries to drape one arm over Chanyeol's shoulder, and the other over Jongin's, and fails. "Why're you both s'fucking tall?"

 

"Sorry about him," Kyungsoo says with an apologetic smile, hovering just behind Baekhyun. It's kind of cute how he worries for everyone - the way he keeps a sharp eye on Baekhyun telling. "Tried to hold him back, but it's impossible. Hello both of you."

 

Baekhyun doesn't seem at all that affected by his alcohol though. A bit wobbly and excited, but not drunk enough for him not to grab Jongin's hand, pull him forward, and shout: "Found a new beer pong partner!"

 

Jongin's bewilderment is the only thing that lets himself be pulled forward without protest.

 

"Is that a good idea?" Kyungsoo asks, and continues to hover.

 

"He'll be _fiiine_ ," Baekhyun assures, wrapping an arm around Jongin's waist to guide him forward towards a table already set up for beer pong. The room is crowded, with many others milling around and waiting for the game to start. "Do you know the rules?"

 

Jongin shakes his head.

 

"Then we'll have to teach you."

 

An hour and several rounds later, Jongin has learned two new things about himself. Firstly, he lacks the hand-eye coordination required to be an adequate beer pong player, and paired with Baekhyun's already inebriated state, they'd lost most of their games. But Baekhyun kept using the excuse that as a newbie, Jongin should be given another chance, again and again. And so they kept on playing.

 

Secondly: Jongin _does not_ have a very high alcohol tolerance.

 

This is the first time he's ever really had more than one drink in one go, so he never knew how much he'd be able to handle before. Not a lot, apparently. Currently, he's sitting down in an armchair because he doesn't really want to stand or walk, while Baekhyun continues his losing streak at the beer pong table.

 

There is a girl on each of the arms of his chair - neither of which he recognizes. Their conversation floats above his head - he can't really pay attention with the way the room spins, and scatters all of his thoughts. One of them keeps touching his arm. The other strokes through his hair. It feels nice, but if they're flirting, Jongin isn't interested. He can't bring his mouth to form the words and tell them that though.

 

A moment ago, Kyungsoo was sitting across the room in another lounge chair, looking sullen. Jongin doesn't know what that's about, but he'd kind of like to ask him when his head clears.

 

When he looks up now though, Kyungsoo is gone. He glances around the room and feels his stomach churn, but manages to spot Kyungsoo disappearing down the hallway.

 

One of the girls giggles loudly, and curls her fingers into his hair. Abruptly, he stands.

 

"Where are you going?" the other one pouts.

 

"Jus'... to the bathroom," he lies. In truth, he just wants to follow Kyungsoo wherever he went. Because he came to this party for him and he'd rather go hang out with his unrequited crush than some girls he's just going to end up disappointing. They let him go.

 

He notices Minseok and Junmyeon have taken over from Baekhyun at the beer pong table as he stumbles past. So it makes sense to him when the first bedroom door he pushes open to look for Kyungsoo reveals a very red-faced Baekhyun mid-argument with Taeyeon.

 

They pause in the midst of their fight to look turn and at him. Taeyeon looks sincerely pissed off, and Baekhyun just looks very drunk.

 

"Sorry," he mumbles, and shuts the door again. Immediately, their voices pick back up.

 

It's in the third room he checks that he finds Kyungsoo, sitting on the side of a neatly made bed, and flopped back to stare at the ceiling. By this point, Jongin is starting to feel _very_ nauseous, and realizes he should probably have stayed sitting down.

 

"Hey," he says, when Kyungsoo lifts his head to look up at the sound of the door opening. When he sees who it is, he sits all the way up.

 

"Hey," comes the answer. Kyungsoo still looks perfectly sober, and maybe like he isn't having that much fun tonight. "What're you doing back here?"

 

Jongin lurches forward a little and shuts the door behind him. He closes his eyes to stop his swirling vision from making him feel sicker. "Just need somewhere to rest for a moment."

 

It's only a half lie. Kyungsoo pats the space on the bed beside him, and Jongin shuffles drunkenly forward.

 

"Whoa," Kyungsoo says, as Jongin sways dangerously when he sits. He reaches out to steady him with an arm wrapped around his back, pulling him into his side. Jongin grimaces, his head lolls, and his cheek ends up mushed into Kyungsoo's shoulder. "Steady there."

 

Jongin just stays still for a moment, letting his stomach settle again. He sighs in contentment - Kyungsoo feels so warm. It's only because he's absolutely wasted that he lets himself snuggle just a little bit closer.

 

"Always when Chanyeol and Baekhyun are involved, you end up in these situations," Kyungsoo sighs, and the arm around Jongin's shoulders moves to rub soothing circles into his back. Jongin thinks that if he were a cat, he would probably purr at the feeling. "You should stop hanging out with us, we're bad influences."

 

Jongin giggles at that. " _You're_ not a bad infl'ence though." And Kyungsoo just sighs again, in exasperation.

 

Chanyeol's name seems to spark something from deep within the haze of his mind. He can't quite make it out though, and it's frustrating. He screws up his eyebrows and groans a little.

 

"Chanyeol tol' me ta tell you s'mething," he mumbles into Kyungsoo's shirtsleeve. He frowns. "Can't r'member what though."

 

"It doesn't matter Jongin," Kyungsoo tells him, and pats his hair. He sounds concerned. Jongin nuzzles a little more into his shoulder. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

 

"No," Jongin tries to shake his head. Kyungsoo's so _warm._ He doesn't want him to go anywhere just yet. "No, don't worry."

 

He's still trying to remember what Chanyeol said to him the other day. But he loses his train of thought when he realises he's falling forward a little, and to stop himself from nose-diving into Kyungsoo's lap, he puts a hand on the other's thigh to hold himself steady.

 

"Should I take you home then?" Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin hears the smile in his voice. "I don't think you're gonna be doing much more partying tonight."

 

"Mmm no," Jongin murmurs. "Jus' stay here a bit."

 

"... Alright," Kyungsoo agrees, after a moment's hesitation. He strokes his hair again.

 

It makes Jongin feel hella gay.

 

Which is exactly what sparks his moment of drunk realization.

 

Oh _right. That's_ what Chanyeol wanted him to tell Kyungsoo. And in the given situation, even though he can't remember _why_ exactly _,_ he also can't seem to remember why the hell _not._ The alcohol has switched off the part of his brain responsible for saying no, and Jongin's just too drunk to care for the repercussions.

 

He struggles to lift his head. "I r'member now."

 

Kyungsoo turns to look at him in concern. "What is it, Jongin?"

 

And he's just so close. Maybe it's because Jongin's still swaying slightly, but his lips, his wide eyes, and the furrow of his eyebrows all blur in and out of focus again. He's _so_ close. He's so...

 

Perfect.

 

Jongin's eyes dip to his jaw. Trail lazily up again to their intended destination - that mouth. The most flawlessly pouty set of lips he's been wanting to kiss for _years_ now. His head buzzes with something addicting and nauseating, and he bites his lip.

 

There's more than one way to say what he needs.

 

So Jongin breathes out, and lets gravity take him forward.

 

The first touch of their lips is less of a kiss than it is one person knocking their face into somebody else's - because Jongin's still uncoordinated and messy-drunk. It kind of hurts actually, but in half a second he finds the strength to right himself, and move his lips from where they're pressed to the corner of Kyungsoo's mouth.

 

He kisses him now. He pushes his lips right against the center of Kyungsoo's, feels the softness of them against his own. Jongin's entire body ignites into a blaze that feels equally as pleasurable as it does sickly. He's _kissing_ him. He's kissing Kyungsoo Do.

 

And Kyungsoo -

 

Kyungsoo doesn't move.

 

It takes Jongin's numb, drunk mind a few seconds to realize the other isn't responding. When he does, he tries desperately to push a little closer, to move against him in a way to make Kyungsoo kiss back. But he doesn't. All it gets out of the other boy is to make the hand, still on Jongin's back, stiffen in response.

 

Which also happens to be Jongin's cue to freak the fuck out.

 

He pulls back like he's been burnt. _What the fuck,_ he thinks. _What the fuck!!_

 

He doesn't want to look at Kyungsoo's face, but he does. The other's eyes are wide and shimmering with too many things that aren't positive. His eyebrows are knitted together. He looks confused and upset, and as he watches, lifts a hand to cover the mouth that Jongin just kissed.

 

_Oh god,_ Jongin thinks.

 

" _Oh god_ ," Jongin says.

 

He stands. Abruptly. His entire body swings to one side, unbalanced, and he nearly falls. How _could_ he?

 

"Jongin -" he hears Kyungsoo try to speak, his voice thick and _different_. But Jongin interrupts him.

 

"Fuck," he curses. Tries to take a step towards the door. Trips on the edge of the carpet and falls. " _Fuck!"_

 

It hurts a lot, a sharp pain shooting through his kneecaps. He ignores it. Kyungsoo says something but he doesn't listen. Doesn't _want_ to listen. All he can think about is getting away.

 

Kyungsoo had already made it pretty damn clear he didn't want to kiss him last time Jongin pulled something like this. So why the _hell_ would he think it was a good idea to try again now?

 

He wants to curl up into a little ball and disappear into the floorboards. But he doesn't deserve to be spared the embarrassment. He doesn't deserve a _damn thing_.

 

"Why would you do that?" he finally hears Kyungsoo say, and his voice sounds small. It makes all of Jongin's insides lurch in self-loathing, because really, _why?_

 

He raises his eyes, in that moment, to look up at Kyungsoo from where he kneels on the floor, and sniffles. Kyungsoo looks _hurt_. And Jongin realizes that he, himself, is crying.

 

And the ringing in his ears proves too much.

 

He looks back down, and throws up all over the floor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, Jongin wakes up in pain. His head hurts, his knees hurt, and so does his god damn heart. The same stupid, delicate heart that got him into this mess in the first place.

 

And god, _what_ a mess it is.

 

The half hour after he threw up last night had probably been the most horrifically shameful and mortifying thirty minutes of his entire life. Kyungsoo had left the room shortly after to call Chanyeol to haul him up off the floor, and then proceeded to have an argument with said boy about Jongin. Right in front of him, like he wasn't even there.

 

"You can't take him back home, Soo," Chanyeol had protested. "You don't know his mom. She'll _kill_ him."

 

"Well where's he gonna go then?" Kyungsoo had snapped back, in a display of anger more impressive even than the last weekend's. "To _your_ place? Because he can't stay here and he sure as hell isn't coming home with me."

 

It was settled then. Because between the two of them, they'd decided that taking Jongin back to Chanyeol's house when his parents were home would just result in him being ratted out to his mother anyway. So punishment was unavoidable.

 

The worst was on the way home, because Chanyeol wasn't sober enough to drive, and Kyungsoo was, and so they rode together in stony silence. Kyungsoo took every corner too sharply, and Jongin hunched over in his seat trying not to throw up again or cry. Neither of them spoke, and Jongin didn't want to.

 

Everything - absolutely _everything -_ is a mess now.

 

The cherry on top was when Kyungsoo had knocked on his front door and explained, politely, to his mother, that he had her very intoxicated son in his front passenger seat. Jongin's never seen her explode about anything quite so badly in his life. And Kyungsoo stood by to witness the whole thing, looking unimpressed.

 

So now he's grounded, with his cell phone taken away for the foreseeable future. He can't even call Soojung to cry about his suffering and ruined reputation.

 

He can't even call Kyungsoo to explain.

 

Not that he wants to, really. Kyungsoo's made his position on this whole thing abundantly clear, and Jongin kind of wants to save himself the heartache of hearing all that rejection and anger put into words.

 

He gulps down the painkillers and water his mom had - very begrudgingly - left on his nightstand a little earlier. Then he lies back into his pillows, and tries to drift off so he can sleep away the remainder of his hangover.

 

He'll deal with all that other, less physical kind of pain a little later. Maybe. Perhaps. Or he won't, and there's a chance he'll never ever get over this, and spend the rest of his life pining over someone who quite conceivably hates him now.

 

It only takes two minutes for a shrill, stern voice to call for him from downstairs, and demand he do the dishes. He winces as the sound reverberates around in his skull, causing fresh pain to stab at his temples.

 

But there's nothing for him to do right now other than as his mother says, and hope, at the very least, _she'll_ forgive him sooner rather than later.

 

Because that little voice in the back of his mind tells him Kyungsoo won't.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

School, on Monday, is for Jongin, to put it _extremely_ lightly: hell.

 

For starters, Soojung still isn't back - which he had no way of knowing due to his mother's cell phone ban. And it means he has no one to help him hide from Kyungsoo and Chanyeol and all the other members of the football team for the day.

 

He cuts class for the first time in his life to stay away from English, just so he doesn't have to face sitting next to an enraged Kyungsoo for the whole period. He resolutely refuses to look in the direction of the footballer's table during lunch, although afterwards, as he zips away early, he thinks he might hear someone that sounds suspiciously like Kyungsoo calling after him as he leaves.

 

Chanyeol manages to corner him just as he gets out of maths, later that day, and Jongin panics for a moment until he realises he's alone. No Kyungsoo in sight.

 

"What the hell did you say to Kyungsoo?" Chanyeol hisses at him, and this is the first time in his life he's _ever_ had the other be mad at him. It just makes him feel like even more shit. "He's so fucking angry, Jongin. Angry at _me_ too. What did you _do_?"

 

Jongin doesn't know why kissing Kyungsoo would make him angry at Chanyeol, but then Jongin doesn't know a lot of things. He doesn't know why he thought drunkenly kissing Kyungsoo would be a good idea in the first place.

 

"I gotta go," he says, pushing past Chanyeol towards his next class. There are other students watching the commotion, and Jongin's cheeks burn.

 

At least now he knows Kyungsoo didn't tell anyone about the kiss. It doesn't really make him feel any better than he did before.

 

On Tuesday, Soojung is back, and demands to know why he hasn't been answering her calls or texts. He barely manages to keep it together as he explains the events of the weekend to her, and for once in her life, even Soojung doesn't seem to have anything helpful to say about the situation at hand. She just listens patiently, her face growing increasingly worried and sympathetic, and, when he's done, pulls him into a tight hug from which he doesn't let go for a long while.

 

"He's looking at you," she tells him over lunch, and Jongin doesn't need clarification about which 'he' she means. He squirms in his seat, and then when he gets up to leave, accidentally looks towards the footballers’ table and makes eye contact with Kyungsoo Do himself.

 

And Kyungsoo outright _glares_ at him. Jongin skips English again that day.

 

To make matters worse, every day he comes home to a mother that seems even more exasperated with him than the day before. She refuses to give his phone back, and overloads him with so many chores he hardly has time to finish his homework.

 

They eat dinner together in frigid silence. She keeps looking at him like she expects yet another apology, even though he'd practically grovelled in front of her that Saturday morning.

 

On Wednesday, everything proves too much. After skipping English for the third time in a row - even the threat of the school calling his mother and aggravating her even further isn't enough to get him to face Kyungsoo - he heads to the coach during his lunch period, and officially quits his meager position on the first-string football team.

 

"Are you sure?" asks the coach, frowning in confusion. "I thought you and Kyungsoo were doing great together. That's what _he_ said anyway."

 

"I..." Jongin hesitates. They _were_ doing great together. Once. "I don't have the time for it anymore, sir."

 

"Well," he shrugs. "If you're sure. We can always find someone else to fill the spot."

 

Over dinner that night, his mom finally breaks the silence. "So," she says, putting down her chopsticks. "I got a call from the school today. They tell me you haven't been to your English classes all week."

 

Jongin puts down his chopsticks too, and looks into his lap. Time to face the music.

 

"Are we ever going to talk about this Jongin?"

 

There's an edge of worry to her voice that's almost scarier than her rage.

 

"Talk about what?"

 

"Jongin," she sighs. Now she sounds tired too. Jongin looks up timidly - he'd expected her to want to snap his head off, not _talk._ "You know what I mean. This behavior. Even before last Friday you were acting strange. I mean football? Since _when_ , Jongin?"

 

There's a well of emotions chasing up his throat that he'd like to very much keep at bay. But he can't. His lower lip wobbles, and his eyes brim with tears.

 

"What's wrong Jongin?" she asks, and her voice has softened. "I was angry before but now I'm just concerned."

 

And Jongin cries. He puts his head in his hands, and just lets it all out. It's not like how he cried, alone, in the boy's bathroom, or when Kyungsoo drove him home, drunk. It's much, much worse than that. It's rivers and rivers of tears that won't stop, it's a snotty, blocked nose, and hysterical breathing. It's so bad that his mom has to come round the table and put her arms around him, and just wait until he calms down enough to form words.

 

"What's wrong?" she asks again, when he's finally at the point of huffy breaths, puffed up eyes, and sniffles. She dabs at his face with a napkin to clean him up a little. "Just tell me."

 

He looks up at her, and she down at him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe _something_ about this whole mess will be okay, in the end.

 

"I'm gay mom," he tells her.

 

She hugs his head.

 

"I know, sweetheart," she whispers. "I know."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Thursday morning before school starts finds Jongin in the last place he wants to be - the football locker room.

 

In and amongst all of the stress and disorganization of the week so far, Jongin had also managed to misplace his history textbook. It was only last night that he remembered having it with him before the last football practice, and that he'd probably left it in the locker room.

 

As much as he'd like to stay the hell away from anywhere Kyungsoo's likely to be, he also kind of _really_ needs the book to study for a big test coming the next week. Jongin can't fail - his mother, despite his emotional coming out last night, is still mad at him for ditching English class. If he bombs out on a test now too, he's dead meat.

 

Luckily for him the locker room is empty just at the moment, and so he sets about finding his book amidst the messy state the football players have left it in. He's just scooping it up from where it lies, fallen off of one of the benches, when he hears someone come in behind him and stop.

 

He turns and straightens, clutching the book across his chest like a shield. Kyungsoo's standing between him and the exit, and the bile rises in his throat.

 

The silence between them stretches into uncomfortable territory. Jongin's eyes dart from Kyungsoo's face to the door once - Kyungsoo seems to catch the movement because his eyebrows tick down in displeasure.

 

Jongin feels like he's on trial.

 

"You can't keep avoiding me forever, Jongin." Kyungsoo's voice is cold. "The game is tomorrow. We're gonna have to see each other eventually."

 

He doesn't seem any less pissed off right now than he did on Friday night, and Jongin disagrees. If this is what things are like between them now, he thinks he could go on avoiding him _forever_ if he puts his mind to it.

 

"Didn't coach tell you?" he asks softly, his eyes lowering to the floor. "I quit the team."

 

He hears Kyungsoo stutter as if trying to speak, but not being able to. "Why?" he asks, voice incredulous, and when Jongin looks up, his anger has faded somewhat into surprise.

 

Jongin shakes his head. "So we don't have to do _this,_ obviously."

 

Kyungsoo's eyes are wide, and swimming with something that Jongin doesn't catch, because he decides that moment is a good one to make his escape. He tries to sidestep Kyungsoo to walk around him, but the other boy goes right with him, and blocks his way.

 

"Why Jongin?" he asks again. "Why would you quit the team just because of me?"

 

Jongin's jaw clenches in frustration. Apparently Kyungsoo wants this dragged out. He grips his book close and hugs himself tight as he looks off to the side.

 

"Don't you get it?" he asks, voice dismal. He feels pathetic. "I don't _care_ about football. I only joined so I could get closer to you, there's no reason for me to stay now."

 

Kyungsoo doesn't respond right away. A few seconds pass, the silence is unbearable, and Jongin doesn't think there's any real reason for him to stay. But when he tries to leave again, a hand shoots out to grab his shoulder, and push him roughly back against one of the lockers.

 

It doesn't hurt, but he does get a fright. "What -" he protests, just before Kyungsoo cuts him off.

 

"Explain," he growls.

 

Kyungsoo is downright intimidating, with his squared shoulders, and his face drawn tight like that. Jongin doesn't really know if he's the type to start throwing punches when he's this angry, but if he is, right about now might be a good time to start bracing for impact.

 

It doesn't matter though. In that moment, Jongin decides he's just _done._

 

"Explain _what_ Kyungsoo?" his voice is exasperated. If Kyungsoo's just going to beat him up, surely he can get on with it? Are all these theatrics and the lead-up really necessary?

 

"What did you mean by 'getting closer to me', Jongin?"

 

Jongin looks Kyungsoo in the face now, because he can't really be this cruel. He still looks angry, but it's diluted with a lot of confusion. Still though, Kyungsoo isn't really that dumb. He _has_ to know by now.

 

"Do you have to?" Jongin starts, and then pauses to look down. Despite how much he'd like to kid himself that he's over it, the tears threatening to brim over in his eyes say otherwise. "Do you really have to humiliate me like this?"

 

"I don't -" Kyungsoo tries, but Jongin's on a roll now.

 

"Does it make you feel happy to hear me say I have a crush on you?"

 

Jongin's eyes sting, and one tear drips over. It isn't much because he's still all cried out from last night, but it doesn't mean the feeling of utter sadness that curls in his stomach and aches up his throat is any less intense. He doesn't look up.

 

Belatedly, he realizes the hand pinning him back against the lockers has dropped. "I'll go now," he says with a sniffle.

 

He actually makes it all the way past Kyungsoo this time before he's stopped again, but the fingers that catch and wrap around his wrist to spin him round almost make him scream in defeat. Because isn't this enough now? Isn't Kyungsoo happy? He's done and he's tired, and he just wants to go home.

 

He looks back at Kyungsoo. How can he still want more from him?

 

"You... you have a crush on me?" Kyungsoo asks, and he has the nerve to look surprised.

 

Jongin pulls his wrist back out of Kyungsoo's hand, and narrows his eyes. "How could you _not_ know?"

 

It's Kyungsoo's turn to look accusing. "You told me you were straight."

 

"I tried to kiss you _twice_ ," Jongin points out, then sighs. "Well, once. I didn't just _try_ the second time."

 

"The first time you were high, and the second you were drunk, Jongin," Kyungsoo lists off on his fingers. He sounds indignant. "And then you regretted it right after, and avoided me for a week. What was I _supposed_ to think?"

 

Jongin purses his lips, and frowns at the door. Kyungsoo's right, his behavior could have been misinterpreted. But who cares, and what's the point of this conversation regardless? So Kyungsoo didn't know he likes him, and now he does. It's not as if that fact alone is going to change where they stand.

 

"Does it matter?" Jongin asks, sulkily. "It's not like you like me back anyway."

 

Another short silence. Jongin wonders when he can leave.

 

"How... do you know?"

 

Jongin's stupid, treacherous heart skips a beat. _No,_ he tells himself, and doesn't dare to move.

 

"You're straight." His jaw is tight.

 

"When did I say that?" There's a hint of amusement in the tone, but Jongin doesn't dare to hope. Not again. Not _ever._

 

"That girl - Joohyun." Jongin bites his lip. His dumb brain is going against all of his wishes, and throwing all sorts of stupid, hopeless romantic crap at him that he tries his best to ignore. "You hooked up with her."

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, and Jongin's feels the sound in his very core. "'Bisexuality'," he says. Jongin can _hear_ the air-quotes. "Ever heard of it?"

 

Jongin whirls round to face him at the first touch of Kyungsoo's hand against his.

 

"What are you saying to me?" he demands, feeling strung-out and vulnerable. Against all of his best interests, his heart just won't listen. "Because I _know_ what it sounds like but I won't believe it 'til I hear it. Kyungsoo, so help me, _what are you saying to me?"_

 

Kyungsoo's face is open and happy now, not a single trace of the anger from earlier left in sight. But when he speaks, he looks down, and it's possibly the first time Jongin's ever seen him _shy._

 

"I like you Jongin," he says. "I've liked you for a long time, but you were just this cute, really nice guy Chanyeol knew, and I didn't know how to talk to."

 

Jongin stops breathing. Kyungsoo smiles a small smile, and takes one of his hands.

 

"And then Chanyeol told me you wanted to play football, and the chance was too good to pass up. I guess _I'm_ the one who was just trying to get closer to you, in the end."

 

Every voice in Jongin's head starts screaming at once. If any one of them is trying to talk some sense of reason into him, it doesn't stand a chance.

 

"Wait," he says, because as tempting as it is to just let go, and dissolve into mush like he wants to, he can't do that. Not yet. "But I kissed you. Why didn't you kiss back?"

 

A strong, warm palm wraps around his hand, and squeezes it tight. Jongin trembles like a leaf.

 

"Neither of those times were you sober." Kyungsoo looks up at him, and furrows his eyebrows a little. "That's not consensual. I didn't wanna kiss you when you possibly didn't wanna kiss back."

 

"I wanted to kiss back," Jongin says, his voice dying out to a dramatic whisper halfway through. His cheeks feel hot, and the words are shaky. "I _really_ wanted to."

 

"The first time, Chanyeol told me you'd been making out with Sehun -"

 

"It didn't -" Jongin tries to interject, but Kyungsoo hold up his other hand to show he isn't finished.

 

"Doesn't matter, you were high," he shakes his head. "But I thought maybe you trying to kiss me too was just the weed talking."

 

"It wasn't." Jongin's mind clouds when Kyungsoo takes a tiny step closer. His mouth snaps shut.

 

"And then the second time, you kissed me because Chanyeol 'told you to tell me something'," Kyungsoo paraphrases what Jongin said that Friday night. They're facing each other now, their feet aligned. "And I thought maybe - because he knew. After I got mad at him for letting you eat too many brownies, I told him how I felt about you, and I thought..."

 

"You thought what?"

 

There's a giddy kind of warmth working its way up his body now, burning him from the inside out. It's not unpleasant, but a little much to handle.

 

"I thought maybe he set you up to it, or something, and it was some kind of dumb joke." Kyungsoo glaces down at his feet, and his lower lip wobbles, once. "I know now I should have trusted him. But we've never talked about this kind of stuff before - how he feels about gay people, I mean. I thought he'd be fine, but I didn't _know._ "

 

"He didn't. He didn't do anything." Jongin shakes his head, and Kyungsoo shifts closer.

 

They're almost chest to chest now, with Kyungsoo looking up at him from under his lashes. Jongin feels positively faint.

 

"But remember, also, I thought you were straight. Those were _your_ words. I couldn't kiss you and watch you regret it later, and then act like it didn't hurt me."

 

"I'm not straight," Jongin says, voice clear. He gulps. "I'm not."

 

He's so close, and Jongin licks over his bottom lip apprehensively. The corners of Kyungsoo's mouth tick up.

 

"Clearly."

 

Jongin breathes out a nervous laugh. But there's one more thing.

 

"And Joohyun?" he asks, hating how petty it sounds. "What about her?"

 

Kyungsoo's smile turns indulgent. "It was just a hook up, Jongin. It didn't mean anything. She's dating someone else now."

 

Jongin swallows. "Okay."

 

And when Kyungsoo looks up at him like that, his face encapsulates all the delight and elation that Jongin can finally let himself feel. Kyungsoo likes him. Kyungsoo likes _him._ It's almost too good to be true, except it isn't.

 

It's the lightest of feelings. He feels like a carbonated soft drink that someone's just shaken up, can feel the delight and contentment fizz all the way up from his toes, and bubble at the base of his throat. He smiles. He can't help it.

 

But the feeling has nothing on when Kyungsoo grins wide and absolutely radiantly, with all of his teeth showing, and asks: "Do I get to kiss you now?"

 

Jongin feels dizzy.

 

"Mm hmm," he nods, not trusting his voice.

 

Kyungsoo takes a moment to get his face back under control, but even though he's not smiling when he steps all the way into Jongin's personal space, there's mirth still in his eyes. He looks up at him and then drops Jongin's hand, moving both of his own up to Jongin's shoulders.

 

He has to go on tippy-toes - Jongin only remembers then, belatedly, that he's too tall for Kyungsoo to kiss comfortably. He places his other hand - the one still not gripping onto his history textbook for dear life - onto the dip of Kyungsoo's waist, to steady him.

 

Kyungsoo leans closer. Jongin sucks in a lungful of air. Their noses bump, and Jongin awkwardly tries to angle his to the side. Kyungsoo's eyes are half-mast now. This wasn't as hard when he was drunk.

 

Then Kyungsoo kisses him.

 

It's just a soft peck, the warmth of Kyungsoo's closed mouth pressed against his for a couple of seconds only. But Jongin's heart beats in his ears, his eyes screw shut, and the fingers on Kyungsoo's waist bury into his shirt to hold on.

 

Kyungsoo is kissing him. _Kyungsoo Do_ is kissing _him_. Him as in Jongin Kim. Kyungsoo is kissing him, and it's the best feeling in the world.

 

He hasn't even opened his eyes before Kyungsoo kisses him again though. But this time, it's a little more enthusiastic - Kyungsoo seems to stumble forward a little, and catch himself with arms circled around Jongin's neck.

 

They're pressed close now. Jongin can feel Kyungsoo's pecs against his chest as he sucks on his top lip, and it makes him shudder. A moment later, the feeling of something wet - of a tongue - tracing the seam of his lips starts a fire in the bottom of his stomach.

 

He's just about to drop his textbook and make a grab to pull Kyungsoo closer when an unknown third person, somewhere behind him, says: "Oh shit."

 

They detach in a split second, and Jongin whirls round in a blind panic. They can't be discovered like this. They can't be forcibly outed when they've only just -

 

It's just Chanyeol.

 

With an ear-splitting grin on his face. Jongin's heartbeat starts to come down from its high.

 

"Oh man," Chanyeol laughs, doubling over and slapping at his own knee. "Your _face_ Soo. I fucking knew it! I fucking _knew_ he liked you back!"

 

Jongin glances over at Kyungsoo, and his eyes are wider than he's ever seen them before, the whites of his eyes completely surrounding his pupils. It looks comical. His face is as flushed and his lips are as swollen as Jongin thinks his own must be. As he watches, the surprised expression is replaced by a sulky frown.

 

"Go _away_ Chanyeol," he whines, and Jongin wants to laugh because it sounds so petulant. Kyungsoo is just so cute sometimes.

 

Chanyeol wipes imaginary tears from his eyes. "Hey man, I'm just doing you a favour. You're about to be late for class."

 

Kyungsoo grumbles something under his breath that Jongin doesn't quite catch.

 

"Sorry Jongin," Chanyeol reaches forward to grab Kyungsoo by the wrist, and throws Jongin a wink. "I've gotta steal lover boy here away for now. You guys can catch up later."

 

Kyungsoo sighs in distaste, but lets Chanyeol lead him towards the door. "Bye Jongin," he says, with a bashful smile thrown over his shoulder, just before he disappears around the corner. He can hear Chanyeol laughing about it all the way down the hallway.

 

Alone, in the locker room, Jongin simply stares after them for a moment, and thinks about what just happens. He brings up one hand, and shakily touches his lips.

 

Kyungsoo kissed him. Kyungsoo _likes_ him.

 

It makes him late for his first class in the end, but he has to take a moment to sit down.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Fucking finally," Soojung says, pulling her bag off of her back, when she joins Jongin on the bleachers. "It's been _years,_ Nini."

 

Jongin fights to keep the smile off of his face, and fails.

 

The crowd around them is already packed tight and rowdy - even though it's just a practice match, it seems the school's already hyped up for the football season. He'd only managed to snag two spots right near the back, and he can only hope Kyungsoo will find him in the crowd, or at least trust him enough to know that he's watching.

 

"If I'd known all it would take to get you to join the dance team was making out with your crush," Soojung says, ducking down so she can whisper it in his ear. "I'd have hooked you two up ages ago."

 

"Stooop," Jongin whines, and swats her away. She giggles, and nudges him playfully in the side.

 

He'd done some thinking last night - mainly because his mom still had his phone, and so he couldn't spend his time texting Kyungsoo like he'd wanted - and he's finally ready. Ready to face all that stuff from middle school that he couldn't before.

 

Besides. No one picks a fight with you when you're 'friends' with the first-string quarterback. The whole team's there to defend him really, even if Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are the only two that really _know._

 

They don't seem to hold anything against him for quitting as their water boy, and had accepted the excuse that he'd decided to take up dance again instead. Currently, they've snagged one of the second string players to serve as a temporary water boy for today, and so all is well.

 

The crowd picks up in volume then. "Here they are, here they are!" Soojung says excitedly, patting his thigh to get his attention. He looks up and sees the players filing out onto the pitch, headed up by Kyungsoo and Minseok.

 

The two of them - and the whole team as well - look formidable and ready, all padded up and decked out in their uniform. Jongin's heart skips a beat at the sight of his crush.

 

His crush? Or are they more than that now? Jongin doesn't know, they haven't had a chance to talk since yesterday morning in the locker room.

 

But down on the pitch, Kyungsoo looks up. His face is pulled down into a frown as he scans the crowd. Jongin wonders if he's looking for him, and marvels at the fact that he knows he would.

 

They make eye contact. Kyungsoo's face blooms into a bright smile when Jongin manages a little wave.

 

He can feel Soojung's smirk on the side of his face. But he doesn't look away. Kyungsoo's eyes are wide and full and _happy._

 

Their little moment ends when the coach blows his whistle, and Kyungsoo turns back to his team.

 

The game must begin. Jongin edges forward in his seat in anticipation.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The after party is probably a little unnecessary: it _is_ just a practice game after all. But Jongin's come to realize the football team don't exactly need an _excuse_ to party. Sehun's house is packed to the gills, and it's a regular Friday night.

 

Jongin's only here because he lied to his mom about having an English project to work on with Soojung - he's not officially un-grounded yet, but she'd begrudgingly allowed him his phone back, and to stay over at her house. Which is a first - he was never allowed sleepovers with girls before. But he supposes the whole coming out thing changes that dynamic a bit.

 

He sits in the corner, and sips at a glass of water - no more alcohol for him, he's learnt his lesson. Everyone else seems to be having a fairly good time, but he's a little bored.

 

Soojung's currently on the dance floor with Taemin, and Kyungsoo...

 

Kyungsoo's too busy being the center of everyone's attention, courtesy of him scoring today's winning touch down. He's everyone's hero tonight - and Jongin hasn't been able to catch his eye even once.

 

Besides, they haven't talked about anything yet, and Jongin knows that in their school, they'll want to stay closeted. Which is fine - he's used to that by now. But it does mean he doesn't want to draw too much attention to their 'friendship', lest anyone get suspicious. As such, he doesn't dare join the group of adoring fans that have been following Kyungsoo around all night.

 

He sighs to himself. He'd been hoping they could maybe talk things over a bit some time, but he probably should have known having a crush on one of the popular jocks meant never being able to get a piece of him.

 

It comes as a surprise then, when in the next moment, a low voice dips down next to his ear, and whispers: "Watch where I go, and follow me after thirty seconds. Third door on the right."

 

Jongin looks up in confusion to see a perfectly nonchalant Kyungsoo walking away from him. He blinks, and then the words sink in.

 

So Kyungsoo _was_ thinking about him then? His pulse picks up as he watches the other head up the stairs, and disappear down a corridor.

 

Jongin waits until about thirty seconds have passed, and then gets up from his seat, leaving his glass of water on a side table. He follows where he'd seen Kyungsoo go - up the stairs, and into the corridor. Then he gets confused, and opens the _second_ door on the right, instead of the third.

 

Inside, a boy and a girl he doesn't recognize immediately are sitting on the edge of the bed and making out. One of them - the boy - is shirtless.

 

At the sound of the door opening, they detach from each other with a wet sound, and turn to look at him. It's Baekhyun and Taeyeon.

 

"Dude," Baekhyun deadpans. "Every time."

 

Jongin realizes his mistake, and shuts the door.

 

He finds Kyungsoo in the next room along, that looks like a guest bedroom. "Hi," he greets shyly, as he shuts the door behind him. Kyungsoo smiles at him, and pats the space beside him in a gesture for Jongin to sit down.

 

"Nice to see you sober this time," Kyungsoo jokes, and Jongin flushes. He'd also noticed how similar to last time this feels, but it's different now. His head is clear, and a feeling of anticipation sits, heavy, at the bottom of his stomach.

 

"You were amazing out there today," Jongin compliments as he sits down. But the words sound lame to his own ears, and he wishes he could do better. Kyungsoo's probably heard that dozens of times already tonight, and Jongin, selfishly, wants to be different.

 

He wants to be _special._

 

"Thank you," Kyungsoo says, smiling softly, and looking down into his lap.

 

The air is a tiny bit awkward between them, but it's to be expected. Jongin fidgets with his hands in his lap. He doesn't know what to say to take this conversation where he wants. And it's frustrating, because he wants them to talk about things, but he also wants to touch Kyungsoo. He wants to be closer to him than he is right now. He wants to kiss him again.

 

And he doesn't know how to ask for that either.

 

Kyungsoo, however, seems to be one step ahead of him already. He looks up at Jongin with earnest eyes, and asks, like he did yesterday morning in the locker room: "Can I kiss you?"

 

It's so... _sweet_ the way he asks. Jongin feels his entire being melt, and he nods. "Yeah."

 

Kyungsoo scoots a little closer, so they're shoulder to shoulder, and Jongin turns to angle his body a little better. One hand rests on his thigh, and Kyungsoo leans in close.

 

They just hover like that, centimeters apart, for a moment, and look at each other. Jongin manages just one deep, shuddery breath before Kyungsoo kisses him.

 

His eyes slip closed, the kiss is gentle. Kyungsoo probably has the softest pair of lips in the world, but that's just a hypothesis - Jongin doesn't really have much to compare them to.

 

The first kiss is just a sweet, slow peck. Kyungsoo pulls back a few centimeters, and waits for him to open his eyes again. "Alright?" he whispers. From outside the door, the thud of the bass from downstairs is loud, but inside the room, everything is quiet.

 

"Yeah," Jongin breathes, and then Kyungsoo presses forward again. The tips of their noses bump - Jongin's so painfully inexperienced. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, but the one on his thigh is warm, which is kinda hot, and Kyungsoo lifts the other to graze his jaw.

 

He settles for placing a palm on Kyungsoo's shoulder when they kiss again, feeling the solidness of his muscles beneath his shirt. His other arm is still trapped, somewhat awkwardly between them. Kyungsoo's thumb brushes over the pulse point in his neck, and Jongin's breath stutters through his nose.

 

The tip of Kyungsoo's tongue peeks out just then, to run along his lips, and Jongin's body _burns_ at the feeling. His thighs squish together, and he opens his mouth.

 

The sounds that comes from Kyungsoo licking into it is so _loud_ in the room, and Jongin feels his temperature rise. It's embarrassing too, how he finds he wants to moan this soon, how he wiggles in his seat already, when Kyungsoo still seems perfectly fine.

 

The huffy little whimper that escapes his throat in the next moment is enough to send him back into his shell. He pulls out of the kiss, and covers his flaming face with one hand.

 

Kyungsoo chuckles deep in his chest. It does _not_ help.

 

"It's okay," he soothes, catching the hand Jongin hides behind and pulling it away. "No one's gonna hear us."

 

Jongin bites his lip and looks down at him, and okay, maybe Kyungsoo's not _entirely_ unaffected. His pupils are blown wide, his skin is flushed, and Jongin resolutely refuses to let his eyes dart down to his lap right now.

 

His own body's starting to feel a little overheated and excited too. Every touch and brush of fabric over his skin makes it feel charged with electricity; that feeling in the bottom of his stomach has increased tenfold.

 

Kyungsoo draws him down to his level this time with a hand on the back of his neck, and licks into his mouth. Jongin parts his lips eagerly, and his hands find purchase on the other's back for something to cling to. It's an odd feeling, having Kyungsoo's tongue run across the back of his teeth, and then poke gently at his own, but it makes him feel hot and breathless, and he writhes in his seat.

 

The hands on the back of his neck move, sliding around to the front, and down his chest. Kyungsoo pushes him, and they have to stop kissing only because Jongin falls back, flopping down into the bedcovers.

 

It only takes a moment to have Kyungsoo hovering over him, pushing one leg between his own to part them. Jongin gulps - Kyungsoo smirks.

 

It's heavier when he dips down to kiss him now. Kyungsoo has to catch himself on his elbows to hover just above him, but they're so close. He can feel Kyungsoo's warmth against him, can feel each dip and outline of his chest. He can't help but lift his hands, as they make out shakily, just to touch Kyungsoo's abs.

 

The muscles scrunch beneath his fingers. Jongin realizes Kyungsoo's shirt has bunched up a little, and he's touching bare skin. He takes a chance, and presses his hands flat against the other's stomach - Kyungsoo lets out a little gasp at the feeling.

 

They break the kiss to catch their breath. Kyungsoo moves his knee up a little to watch Jongin clench his upper thighs around it, to watch him pant, and look up at him with hazy eyes. He drops down again, and presses a kiss to his neck.

 

"Jongin," he whispers, and Jongin wriggles a little from the ticklish neck kiss. "I _really_ like you."

 

Jongin has to bite his lip to hold back a smile. "I like you too," he says, and Kyungsoo presses his lips against his collarbone.

 

Kyungsoo shifts then - smushes his face down into Jongin's neck, and brings his knee up even further. Jongin whines. Then Kyungsoo moves his leg and _grinds,_ and Jongin full out moans.

 

He slaps a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He'd been trying to ignore, up until this point, how he was slowly getting harder, and his skinny jeans are starting to get more and more uncomfortable. But now Kyungsoo's hard too - if the bulge poking into his thigh is anything to go by - and he can no longer deny the situation.

 

"J-Jongin," Kyungsoo whispers, and he pulls back and looks him in the face. "Do you want to...?"

 

Jongin doesn't catch on immediately. "Do I want to what?" he blinks, voice a little hoarse, and removes his hand. He simply lies back, panting for a moment, while Kyungsoo knits his eyebrows together. "Oh." he says when it hits him. " _Oh."_

 

"We, uhh, we don't have to." Kyungsoo starts to pull back. Jongin's stomach flips because that's not what he meant _at all,_ and his arms shoot out to grab the other by the shoulders.

 

"That's not what I was gonna say." He stops, and closes his eyes. He can't believe he's really about to ask _Kyungsoo Do_ this question. "Just, don't we need, um. Do you have, uhh. A condom?"

 

Kyungsoo chuckles at Jongin's bashfulness, but he also sounds a little nervous. "Yeah I've got one."

 

"And lube?"

 

"That too."

 

Jongin's eyes shoot open. "You _prepared_ for this?" he blurts. Because really, why else?

 

Kyungsoo's face goes horribly red. "Are you _complaining_?" he shoots back, from under his formidable eyebrows.

 

Jongin guesses not. On the contrary, it makes something in his chest (and maybe in his pants too) shift a little, because now at least he _knows_ he's wanted.

 

He props himself up on his elbows. "Just, uhh, you know I've never done this before, right? With anyone. Not even a girl. I'm a virgin."

 

Kyungsoo lifts a hand to stroke his cheek, gently, and it calms his galloping heartbeat a little. "And I haven't done it with a guy before, so we'll definitely be going slow, okay?"

 

Jongin takes in a big breath. "Okay," he nods. "Okay. So how do you wanna do this"?"

 

Kyungsoo rearranges himself to sit comfortably, thighs on either side of Jongin's hips as he straddles him. He chews on his lip. "You can fuck me if you want."

 

And at that, a feverish wave washes over Jongin's body. His arousal had been put on hold for their conversation, but it spikes, in that moment, and refuses to be ignored.

 

"I mean I don't have any experience with this," Kyungsoo continues. "So I don't know if it would be any help, but -"

 

Jongin's not innocent. He's had many a fantasy starring his long-time crush. And pretty much _all_ of them feature him on the receiving end - this is one situation in which he knows what he wants. And so he doesn't let Kyungsoo go any further.

 

"No," he interrupts, and looks up at him with dark eyes. "Please - fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Kyungsoo."

 

Kyungsoo just stops, and looks down at him for a long moment, and it makes Jongin worry he's said something wrong. But then he swallows thickly, his throat bobbing, and Jongin's own words catch up to his ears.

 

Oh _god._ Did Kyungsoo find that hot?

 

"I need to lock the door," Kyungsoo's voice sounds frayed. He slides his weight off of Jongin's lap. Once he's flicked the catch on the lock, he walks over to the bed and retrieves his jacket - one that he'd taken off before Jongin had even come into the room - and fights for something in one of the pockets.

 

He comes back a moment later with a small bottle and something wrapped in silver foil, and stands awkwardly in front of him. Jongin can guess what they are.

 

"So. What next?" he asks, and his heart has lodged itself in his throat. He's turned on and slightly terrified, and he's not sure why he's asking how sex works when he's no stranger to gay porn. But everything is just a little much right now.

 

Kyungsoo shifts his weight onto the other foot. "Can I suck you off?" he asks.

 

Jongin bites his lip and nods like that single question alone didn't just make his cock twitch in his pants. Kyungsoo sits on the edge of the bed, and pulls Jongin up straight with a hand on his shoulder.

 

"I've never done this before," he warns, looking Jongin in the eye after he abandons the condom and lube somewhere on the bed. Jongin nods, and doesn't trust his voice.

 

The touch of Kyungsoo's fingers on his fly is too delicate to put any pressure on his growing erection. But then when the zipper is pulled down, he puts his hand inside and cups the bulge over his boxers. Jongin has to grip the edge of the bed not to buck up into it, and he hisses.

 

Kyungsoo squeezes once and Jongin moans. He stops, and Jongin realizes he's watching his face closely, gauging his reaction. Which is a little embarrassing. He covers the bottom half of his face with one hand, which makes Kyungsoo huff out a half-laugh before he turns his attention back to the task at hand.

 

Next, the elastic band of the top of his boxers is peeled back slowly and his cock springs free. Jongin hopes, through the cloud of arousal in his mind, that he's adequate enough. But Kyungsoo just looks down at it and wets his lips - the sight is so hot that Jongin forgets to worry.

 

Kyungsoo bends down now until he's face to face with Jongin's dick. Jongin's heart is in his throat: he doesn't know if he's ready.

 

The first lick against the side of the head is good and solid, and it rips a groan from Jongin's mouth. Kyungsoo licks his lips again, and then wraps them around the tip. Jongin's shoulder-blades melt, and he throws back his head.

 

He's never had his dick in anyone's... anything before, and it's a lot. Kyungsoo sucks more of the shaft in. The sound of it is gross but the feeling is good. Too good. Jongin thinks he's going to come in five minutes.

 

In all of his fantasies, Kyungsoo was more confident and domineering that this, always taking charge and telling him what to do. But _fuck_ his fantasies, because none of them ever felt this great, even in his imagination.

 

Kyungsoo bobs his head. "Kyungsoo," Jongin gasps. And again. "Kyungsoo!"

 

He doesn't get down very far - Jongin's cock is pretty average in size, but then Kyungsoo's inexperienced at this too - but it only takes a minute more for Jongin to gently prize him off by his jaw. He doesn't want to pull his hair.

 

"Stop," he pants. "That's enough."

 

Kyungsoo frowns. He coughs before he speaks, and his voice is a little rougher than usual. "Was it... was it not good?"

 

Jongin's eyes bug out. The _audacity._ "I was about to come in your mouth you idiot, it was great."

 

Kyungsoo laughs at the outburst, his face turning to delight, and then coughs again. "Let's get these off you," he says, grabbing the tops of Jongin's boxers and jeans, and tugging them both off in one go. Jongin lifts his hips and toes off his shoes to help.

 

"Can you, uhh, take off your shirt now?" Jongin asks, and nervously wrings his hands. Kyungsoo blinks at him, and then pulls it off with one hand gripping the collar.

 

It tousles up his hair as it comes off which Jongin thinks is sexy. But he isn't looking at that for too long when suddenly, all of Kyungsoo's bare torso is on display for him to admire.

 

"... Fuck," Jongin murmurs, because years and years of football training sure do leave their mark. He reaches out to trace the dip between Kyungsoo's sculpted pecs, and the other boy shudders. "You're so hot."

 

Kyungsoo catches his hand. "Right back at you." Jongin blushes, and opens his mouth to deny it. "No, shh." There is a finger pressed to his mouth. "Will you lie back for me? I need to finger you now."

 

Jongin's stomach twists with both want and anxiety as he scoots back until he can lie down with his head on the pillows. Kyungsoo turns and crawls over to him, and Jongin can see he has the lube in his hand.

 

"Bend your knees." Kyungsoo spends a moment arranging his legs, trying to find the best way to do this, and then seems to give up. "Maybe lie on your stomach instead."

 

A moment later, Jongin's shirt is stripped off, and his cock is caught painfully between his body and the pillow Kyungsoo's placed beneath him to prop his hips up. His one leg is bent - as per the other's instructions - and it makes him feel vulnerable. It doesn't help that Kyungsoo's taking his sweet time behind him, popping the cap and fumbling with the lube.

 

He feels a warm hand against one of his asscheeks. _Oh._ That's hot.

 

"Hurry up," it makes him whine, as his cock throbs in it's new confines. Kyungsoo grumbles something behind him, but shifts forward anyway.

 

The feeling of having his ass spread by Kyungsoo bending over just behind him is quite possibly the most arousing thing he's ever experienced in his life. And Jongin's watched a lot of porn. A _lot._

 

"Ok, I'll just -" Kyungsoo warns, right as Jongin feels a cold, slimy fingertip poke at his entrance.

 

"Oof." He grits his teeth.

 

Kyungsoo circles the rim a bit, testing the muscles and warming up the lube. It starts to feel a little less... surprising. "You okay?" he asks.

 

"Yeah," Jongin says. "Put it in."

 

They work slowly from there, one finger at a time. Jongin doesn't like the feeling of the first one, but it isn't sore. The second one is - but Kyungsoo briefly brushes his prostate which stops his complaints for a little while. He doesn't find it again until the third, and _that_ has Jongin beginning to shift and whimper, and rut against the pillow.

 

"Please Kyungsoo," he whines, because it isn't enough. The stars going off on the back of his eyelids are great but he needs more - something bigger. "Just fuck me now."

 

Kyungsoo takes his fingers out, and Jongin can feel his ass clench around nothing. It feels weird and hollow. The other must be watching because he hears a sharp, sucked in breath from behind him. "You sure you're ready?"

 

Jongin responds by rolling over onto his back, and kicking the pillow out from underneath him. "I've been wanting this for a long time," he says, looking up at Kyungsoo from beneath his sweaty bangs. "I'm ready."

 

Ugh.

 

It sounded sexy in his mind, but now that the words are out of his mouth, he winces. How awkward. Kyungsoo notices the reaction, and laughs, dipping down to kiss his eyelids.

 

The action makes his heart flutter.

 

Jongin's cock is still very hard though. His body's sending him mixed messages at the moment.

 

"Okay," Kyungsoo says, and leaves the bed briefly to fight his shoes, jeans, and boxers off. He comes back, retrieves the condom, fiddles with the wrapper for a moment, and then rolls it on. Then he lubes up, and crawls towards Jongin slowly.

 

Jongin eyes his cock a little doubtfully. He's not... gigantic. But most cocks are a little intimidating at full hardness and when they're about to be in your ass. Currently Kyungsoo's cock is both of those things.

 

"Ready?" Kyungsoo checks yet again, and nudges his thighs apart. He grips each of Jongin's knees, and uses them as leverage to spread him even further.

 

Jongin takes a deep breath, and nods his head.

 

Kyungsoo is as gentle and slow of a partner as anyone could hope to have during their first time. First, he simply rests the head of his cock against Jongin's rim, and waits. The initial feeling makes Jongin gasp - it's thick and blunt and warm against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

 

Kyungsoo only pushes in when Jongin's breathing evens out, and his eyes aren't screwed shut anymore. It's a slow, constant, burning pressure, that only builds and builds until he bottoms all the way out and stops.

 

Jongin doesn't make a sound. And Kyungsoo doesn't dare to move.

 

"Relax," he says, when he notices the gritted teeth, how Jongin's fingers are all twisted up into the duvet cover. Jongin doesn't think he can, but slowly, one by one, he tries to release the pressure in each of his muscles.

 

The first thing Jongin thinks when he lets himself dissolve into the feeling is that he's never felt this _full_ before _._ He'd always known, of course, that an actual dick would be larger than his own fingers. But never by this much. Kyungsoo's not that big, but he already feels stuffed. He can't possibly imagine him _moving_ inside there.

 

They stay like that for a good minute, until the initial pain in Jongin's ass dies down to a dull ache. Kyungsoo adds some more lube for good measure.

 

"Can I move?" he asks, and Jongin nods up at him with bleary eyes and feverish cheeks. And so he does move - Kyungsoo pulls about halfway out, and then pushes carefully back in.

 

Jongin's jaw drops open, and he just lies there, slick-mouthed as Kyungsoo builds up a gentle pace. It does hurt a bit - not a lot - and he's still not sure if it feels good yet. But just that fact that this is _Kyungsoo_ here with him, like this, is enough to keep his own cock half-hard, and semi-interested in the proceedings at hand.

 

It lies to the side, against his thigh, but twitches when Kyungsoo lets out this breathy, attractive groan, and stops moving to catch his breath. Jongin looks up at him, and he looks so _good_ like this - naked, with a thin sheen of sweat over gleaming muscles. Jongin wants to touch.

 

"Come here," he says, and reaches out with open arms. Kyungsoo folds his knees back until he's almost bent in half - thank god for that dancer's flexibility - and drops down into his arms.

 

He kisses him. "You feel so good," Kyungsoo tells him, and like this it's hard to thrust properly, so he's just grinding against Jongin's ass really, hips circling and pushing against his own. Jongin whimpers into the next kiss, and screws his face up.

 

He feels it. Kyungsoo's found his prostate again. "There," he gasps, when Kyungsoo relinquishes his lips to trail kisses down his throat. It's a double-shot of _sensation,_ and Jongin arches his neck, flexing his shoulders back into the pillow. "You had it a moment ago."

 

Kyungsoo struggles for a moment, to find the right angle again. "There?" he asks, when Jongin chokes on whatever he was about to say.

 

"Mm hmm," Jongin bites his lip, his voice sounding squeaky to his own ears. It's too much - the feeling is _filthy,_ but so satisfying. His entire body shakes with the pleasure.

 

Kyungsoo wraps a hand around his cock - apparently he wants him to come too fast. Jongin tosses his head to the side in embarrassment when he mewls.

 

It's too hot, too much. Kyungsoo starts to move his hand, tugging at his cock in unison with slow, languid thrusts. Jongin grunts. So much _pleasure._ He isn't going to last.

 

"Are you _trying_ to make me come?" he whimpers, looking up at Kyungsoo accusingly. His eyes feel wet.

 

Kyungsoo flicks his wrist, and Jongin arches his back. "Wasn't that the goal here?"

 

It's through gritted teeth that Jongin glares up at him. "You've been inside me for, like, three minutes."

 

He tightens his abdominal muscles to stave off the building feeling in his pelvis. Kyungsoo groans.

 

"And I'm going to come _now_ if you do that," Kyungsoo pants. Jongin realizes what he just did, and clenches his ass again to make him curse. Kyungsoo speeds up the movement of his hand in retaliation.

 

"Just let go Jongin," Kyungsoo pleads, when the other furrows his eyebrows in concentration. He sounds like he might be close too. "Please - come for me."

 

Jongin sucks in a shuddery breath. The words are exactly in line with some of his more frequent Kyungsoo-fantasies, and he can't take it anymore.

 

He lets go.

 

When he relaxes his muscles, all of that white hot pleasure he was trying to keep back explodes. He comes, keening into Kyungsoo's neck, and gripping onto his shoulders to stay grounded. His breath gets caught in his throat, and for that moment, he feels suspended in the middle of it all. Then he breathes out and comes crashing down, limbs shuddering, and extremities tingling.

 

Kyungsoo is still when he opens his eyes, cock all pushed up into his prostate. When he pulls out, it feels gross and over-sensitive, and Jongin watches with hooded eyes as he jerks himself off and spills into the condom.

 

Kyungsoo flops down on top of him once he's taken it off. "Eww," Jongin grimaces, at the feeling of his own come smearing between them. Kyungsoo laughs and reaches up to place both palms on his cheeks, and pull him in for a kiss.

 

He only just realises then that his mouth tastes different than it did earlier. Jongin remembers that Kyungsoo had sucked his dick just. Weird - porn makes that look so hot, but he isn't sure of how he feels about it right now.

 

His body is too sated for him to care though, really. Kyungsoo's weight is warm and comforting, and when he speaks, Jongin feels the words rumble through his chest.

 

"Do you wanna come back to my house?" Kyungsoo asks, and then immediately backtracks. "Not to - I didn't - Just to hang out, I meant."

 

Jongin chuckles and threads his fingers into the other's hair. "I'd love to, but I can't," he sighs. "My mom will murder me if she finds I'm not at Soojung's tomorrow morning."

 

Kyungsoo frowns.

 

"I'm still grounded from last Friday. I'm not even meant to be _here,_ " Jongin explains.

 

"Oh." A slightly guilty expression crosses the other's face. "I guess... that's my fault. If I'd known the truth then I wouldn't have thrown you to the wolves."

 

"It's fine," Jongin says, and really, it is. If his mom hadn't gotten mad at him he wouldn't have come out to her like that, and he still wouldn't have known that she'd support him, no matter what. Despite her admittedly reasonable anger, Jongin feels like things are better between the two of them now than they ever have been.

 

"Sehun told me you joined the dance team," Kyungsoo says. "And don't be mad at him but Chanyeol told me what happened to you in middle school. I'm proud of you, Jongin."

 

Jongin's heart skips a beat. Kyungsoo must have pieced all that together on his own.

 

"Thank you," he says, and that wet feeling in his eyes has returned.

 

There is silence between them once more. A comfortably lazy, sticky-hot silence.

 

"So what are we?" Jongin blurts because he can't keep it in anymore. Kyungsoo seems to like him, and Kyungsoo just had sex with him. But Kyungsoo sometimes hooks up with people for no other reason than that he _can_ , and that little piece of knowledge gets him all doubtful and a little uneasy again.

 

Kyungsoo props himself up and looks down at him. "You mean you think I'd let you suffer through a month of football training that you didn't even care about for me and _not_ ask you to be my boyfriend?" he says. Jongin's heart feels full. "That was kind of dumb, by the way. Rule number one of talking to your crush is not to pretend to be someone you aren't."

 

Jongin kicks him playfully. "You couldn't talk to me either," he whines. "What if our situations were reversed? Would you, uhh... join the dance team for me?"

 

Kyungsoo snorts. "Dancing? Me? That's a disaster waiting to happen."

 

"I'll teach you sometime." Jongin giggles when Kyungsoo groans in protest. "But would you have done it?"

 

"If I wasn't already too busy with football?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"... I probably would have."

 

"There you go."

 

"I said that it was stupid, not that _I_ was smart."

 

"Glass houses, Kyungsoo," Jongin tuts, wagging his finger in the other's face.

 

"We weren't _talking_ about me," he protests. He looks caught halfway between annoyance and amusement and the expression is so funny that Jongin can't help himself. He giggles again, and pulls Kyungsoo down for a kiss.

 

"So will you?" Kyungsoo asks, after he's worked Jongin breathless. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

 

Jongin looks up into his wide, expectant eyes, and takes just a moment to reflect.

 

He thinks about how much of a fuck-up this whole mess has been. How - Kyungsoo's right - he really shouldn't have pretended to be something he wasn't just to impress his crush.

 

And he also thinks about he can't bring himself, for even a moment, to regret a single thing.

 

He's out to his mother, to Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo, now. That's three more people who know about his sexuality and accept him - Soojung had always been amazing, but it can be hard to trust the words of only one person against the rest of the world.

 

He thinks of those bullies in middle school, and how he isn't really scared anymore. He thinks of dancing, and how much he misses it. How excited he is to get started again.

 

And most importantly, he thinks of Kyungsoo. Of sweet, caring, sexy, and just downright _wonderful_ Kyungsoo Do. Of how he's exceeded Jongin's every expectation. Of how, throughout it all, Jongin has only managed to fall harder.

 

He thinks of how contented he feels, right now, in this moment, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile. He opens his mouth, and speaks.

 

"Of course," says Jongin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lucy_oppa) if you wanna chat, or drop a message in my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lucyoppa) if you're shy!


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